


Feet in the Air, Head on the Ground

by ThatRavenclawBitch



Series: Where is My Mind [2]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV), Stargate Universe
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-04
Updated: 2015-09-17
Packaged: 2018-02-19 19:27:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 38
Words: 44,223
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2400089
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThatRavenclawBitch/pseuds/ThatRavenclawBitch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A ficlet spin off of Where is My Mind focusing on Lacey French and her runs ins with a certain Physics professor. Spawned out of tumblr prompts and collected here for easy access.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Cold

**Author's Note:**

> Ripperblackstaff prompted: Where is my mind, Lacey Spin off : Rush arrives in town

Cold. That’s the only impression Nicholas Rush had of Maine.

It was a far cry from the California weather he’d grown accustomed to. But ever since Gloria’s death, he couldn’t stand the West Coast. There were too many ghosts there. When a former colleague had alerted him of the position at Storybrooke U, he couldn’t find a reason to turn it down. The school was small, but the physics department was cutting edge and he’d be head of the department. It had seemed a perfect opportunity.

But Nick was having trouble remembering why he’d ever come to this God forsaken town as he scraped ice from his windshield one freezing January morning. It was the beginning of the spring semester, and a late night storm had blanketed the entire town in snow.

He eventually got the car defrosted enough to make his way from his shitty temporary apartment out to campus, through the meager downtown. Stopped at a red light outside the town’s one and only diner, Rush rubbed his hands together, praying to some deity for the heater to kick in. Despite being born and raised in Scotland, he hated the cold.

He was running late for his 8:00 class and running through his lesson plan in his head when the light turned green. He hit the gas pedal just as someone stepped out into the crosswalk. With a startled gasp, he slammed on his brakes at the last moment.

"Oi! Watch where you’re going you fucking maniac!" yelled an Aussie accented voice. 

Rush looked up to see a woman in the shortest skirt he’d ever seen, despite the freezing cold weather. Fucking gorgeous legs, he couldn’t help himself from noticing. A second later her palm had slapped hard against the hood of his car. 

"My eyes are up here, asshole!" the woman called, a pair of stunning blue eyes were glaring at him from under a woolen knit cap. 

"Don’t fucking walk out in traffic, you dumb slag!" Rush yelled back. 

The girls mouth dropped open, plainly unused to such harsh treatment. 

"Well aren’t you a gentleman." 

"I’m late," Rush growled, revving his engine. "Kindly take your charms elsewhere."

The girl glared at him for a moment longer before giving him a choice finger and sauntering off across the street.

Rush hit the gas pedal again, arriving at the University just in time for his lecture. But the whole hour all he could concentrate on were a pair of beautiful blue eyes staring at him from out in the snow. 


	2. You Again

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ripperblackstaff prompted: Can we have a ficlet of Rush/Lacey in WIMM, pwetty please ? Like they run into each other again ?

Lacey was running late.

Belle had come in for the weekend, and while she’d spent 99% of her time with Gold, she’d managed to carve out a few hours on Sunday night for her twin sister. They’d ended up staying up way too late and drinking far too much wine. Now Lacey was facing Monday morning with a hangover after having slept through her alarm. 

Belle was a fucking bad influence these days.

Her sister had just barely made her train back to Boston and Lacey was almost sprinting through the snow in an attempt to make it to her first class of the day on time. 

It was only the third week of school and, now that she’d attempted to give some sort of order to her life, she was loathe to make a bad impression by turning up to lecture late.

After Belle had headed back to university after the summer, Lacey had started thinking about her future for the first time in, well, ever. She didn’t have the grades to go away to school like Belle, but she’d always been smart, if unmotivated. She’d managed to enroll at Storybrooke University starting in the spring semester, and so far she’d been very happy with her choice. She had no idea what she really wanted to study, so Belle had suggested taking a wide variety to see what she liked. This morning, she was running late for her chemistry class. She’d always liked science, her academic leanings skewing away from Belle’s more literary pursuits. 

Not that science was her only interest. Her Chem I class was followed by Intro to Pottery and then Conversational Spanish. She was nothing if not well rounded. 

She was sprinting up the steps to the Physical Sciences building, coffee cup clutched in one hand and her messenger bag loaded with books in the other when she slammed face first into something solid.

She reeled back, hot coffee splashing down her front, and she would have fallen backwards down the steps if someone hadn’t reached out and grabbed her by the elbows.

"Watch where you’re going," she heard a Scottish brogue growl out, followed by an audible hiss. 

"Oh bloody hell, it’s you again." the man said.

Lacey stepped back, shaking coffee out of her scarf and jacket before glancing up to look at the man who’d caused this mess in the first place.

"Have we met?" she snapped. Now she was not only late, she was covered in coffee. Fucking perfect. 

"You leapt out in front of my car like a mental person last week," he reminded her.

The incident was fresh in Lacey’s mind. She’d been crossing the street by Granny’s when some asshole had almost mowed her down. She hadn’t gotten a good look at him through the windshield of his car. Now that she could see him properly, he was quite handsome. Longish hair, brown eyes and just the right amount of scruff to convey a devil may care attitude. He was a bit older and a bit shorter than she usually went for, but altogether not bad. Too bad he was an asshole. 

"Right," she said tartly, adjusting her bag on her shoulder. "You called me a slag, you twat."

The man didn’t even flinch at her insult. She got the distinct impression he’d been called worse. He merely eyed her appraisingly.

"Well, don’t you ever wear pants like a normal person in fucking January?"

Lacey glanced down at her skirt, tights and boots. Yes, she had a penchant for short skirts, but that didn’t reflect on her character. Fucking mysoginistic piece of shit.

"I’ll dress however the fuck I want to dress," she said angrily. "You don’t know me."

The man just smirked at her. “Well lets change that, shall we? Dr. Nicholas Rush.”

He extended his hand as if to shake hers and Lacey glanced at it as if it were something slimy and slightly poisonous.

"And I’m late for chemistry," Lacey said, stepping around him and heading up the stairs.

"Who do you have?" Rush called after her.

Lacey rolled her eyes before turning back to him.

"Schaefer," she said succinctly. 

Rush pulled a face. “Well Schaefer’s a bloody idiot, you’re not likely to learn much there.”

Lacey had come to much the same conclusion, but as she was a student rather than a professor she hardly felt it prudent to say so. 

"What do you want from me?" she asked exasperatedly. 

"Well, I introduced myself. It’s only polite that you return the favor."

Lacey eyed him for a long moment before finally giving in.

"Lacey," she said sharply. "Next time you almost knock me over maybe I’ll give you a last name."

With that she turned on her heel and sprinted up the rest of the steps to her building. She was extremely late and covered in coffee, but she couldn’t quite rid herself of the smirk on her face. That was the most fun she’d had in ages. 


	3. What Happens at the Rabbit Hole

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ripperblackstaff prompted: Can we read about Rush and Lacey, meeting #3 ?

He’d taken to drinking his coffee on the front steps of the Physical Sciences building on Monday mornings. Not for any particular reason other than that the halls were crawling with his coworkers at that time of day, asking inane questions like “how was your weekend?” He’d rather face the bollock freezing weather outside than be stuck in conversation with one of his esteemed colleagues blithering on about their child’s ballet recital or something equally fatuous. Also, he liked a smoke first thing in the morning and the front steps of the Physical Sciences building seemed as good a place as any to have one.

He was definitely not huddled into his coat, cigarette pressed between his lips and coffee cup clutched between his freezing hands in hopes of seeing the girl. The one with the legs and the eyes and the hair.

He supposed all women had legs and eyes and hair, though few enough had caught his interest in his life. He’d fallen hard and fast for Gloria when he was young and never had eyes for anyone else. After she’d passed there’d been that ill advised thing with Mandy. But that had been an intellectual attraction, finding his mind’s equal in another. He’d never experienced this kind of raw physical attraction before.

For christ’s sake, he knew nothing about the girl - Lacey she called herself - other than that she had a foul mouth, a penchant for short skirts and very little tolerance for him. Despite that she’d begun to invade his dreams.

He didn’t sleep well at the best of times, and these were certainly not the best of times. He’d sold his house and moved cross country. He was currently living in a flat with a heating system that barely worked in the middle of a New England winter. He drank enough caffeine to keep a lesser man going for weeks at a time. And now he was plagued with visions of blue eyes and sinfully long legs every time he closed his fucking eyes.

He glanced down at his wrist watch seeing that it was half past eight. He stubbed his cigarette out with a sigh and headed inside. He hadn’t seen her in three weeks. Not since the morning she gave him her name. Maybe she’d started taking another route just to avoid him? That thought almost made him smile. It would mean he’d had some sort of impact on the strange girl. 

Well it was for the best. He was an overworked, underfed, miserable widower. He had nothing in his life but his obsessive love for his work. It’s not as though he’s the type of professor to seduce a coed, even if he wanted to. He had no objective in standing outside in the cold every Monday morning before Dr. Schaefer’s Chemistry I class other than to catch sight of a beautiful woman, to get one glance at her to last him through the cold nights in his shit apartment. But why should he have even that?

* * *

It was after ten in the evening by the time Rush had packed up his battered satchel, wrapped his scarf around his neck and headed out to his car. He’d been caught up in his work, formulas and theorems running through his head as his fingers struggled to keep up with his brain. He hadn’t even realized the time until his eyes had started to cross from staring at his messy handwriting against his white board.

It was only as he reached his car, carelessly tossing his bag in the backseat, that he realized he wasn’t really tired. The idea of going home and rifling through the empty cupboards of his flat for something to eat and curling up under the cold sheets until exhaustion finally forced him into a couple hours of sleep was just about the most unappealing thought he could imagine. 

He didn’t realize where exactly he was headed until he pulled up outside. He’d noticed the bar near his apartment before when he’d passed it on his way to the university. It looked like the kind of seedy establishment where he could fade into the shadows, find a booth and drink his mind to numbness as he scribbled in his battered notebook. Rush wasn’t looking for socialization, but he didn’t want to be alone.

Without another thought, he parked his car on the curb and headed into the cloyingly named Rabbit Hole.

The bar was well nigh empty on a Monday, only a handful of patrons scattered here and there. Rush quickly ordered a whiskey neat and settled himself on a bar stool, pulling out his notebook and attempting to get some more work done. 

He had worked his way through his first two drinks when he heard a loud cough behind him.

"Are you stalking me now?" came a drawling voice from somewhere behind his left shoulder. Rush was so concentrated on his work that he barely noticed the interruption.

"Seeing as I’m sitting in the middle of a bar and am obviously busy, I’d be a pretty piss poor stalker now wouldn’t I?" he growled back, not bothering to look up.

"You’re right," the voice returned, moving to his side as its owner took the bar stool next to him. "You haven’t even tried to run me over or knock me down any stairs today. This is the best behaved I’ve ever seen you."

He glanced up at that and straight into the startlingly blue eyes of Lacey. In the intervening weeks he wondered if he’d exaggerated their color in his mind, picturing her more beautiful than she was in a flight of fancy. He could see now that he’d hardly done them justice at all. 

And what exactly was it about this girl that had him thinking like a fucking poet?

"Lacey?" he asked, as though he hadn’t run the name through his memory countless times in the intervening weeks.

"Dr. Nicholas Rush," she replied with a smirk, signaling at the bartender with one hand. "What brings an esteemed academic such as yourself to our humble establishment?" 

Rush flashed his notebook at her. “Needed a change of venue.” 

"The hallowed halls of Storybrooke University not doing it for you?" she asked as the bartender placed a shot of dark liquor down on the bar in front of her.

"Something like that," he replied. He couldn’t help but notice this was the longest she’d ever gone without calling him a foul name. "Far be it from me to dissuade this sudden burst of goodwill, but you’re decidedly less hostile than our previous encounters."

Lacey shrugged at that, pounding back the shot and smacking her lips together. 

"I’ve had a few and I’m feeling generous, Nicky."

Rush arched an eyebrow at the nickname but didn’t call attention to it. 

"I haven’t seen you around the school again," he said, the alcohol apparently lowering his inhibitions enough to point out the fact that he’d noticed her absence.

"Oh yeah, I dropped Schaefer’s class."

"Why?" Rush asked, slightly stunned. 

Lacey just shrugged again.

"Too fucking early in the morning. I was never going to keep up attendance," she gave him a wry smile. "Plus you said he was an idiot. I’m in Dr. Suresh’s class now."

"It’s intro to chemistry, not rocket science. The professor doesn’t make much of a difference when the subject matter is so simple."

Lacey quirked a brow at him. “Well excuse me that we can’t all be fellowship award winning physics gods, you prick. I have to start somewhere.”

And just like that, he was back to being a prick.

Lacey signaled the bartender once more who placed another shot in front of her along with a martini glass filled with something pink and fruity looking. He wondered how much she’d actually had to drink. Despite her claims, she seemed steady on her feet.

"Nice seeing you, Nicky," she grinned before downing the shot and tossing the contents of the martini glass right in his lap.

"Bloody hell!" he exclaimed, jumping to his feet as the cold liquid soaked through his jeans. "What the fuck was that for?"

"Payback for the coffee," she said innocently. "And for being an insufferable ass. Just be glad it wasn’t something scalding."

Rush just stared at her as she leaned over the bar.

"Hey Jimmy," she called to the bartender. "This round’s on him!"

She gave him another winning smile before sauntering off to the pool table in her sky high heels and tiny skirt, leaving Rush sputtering and only slightly bothered that his crotch was now covered in something that smelled strongly of vodka, and vaguely like strawberries. 

The girl was certifiably insane. But, he supposed, so was he.


	4. Nightmares

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous prompted: Rush has a sex dream about Lacey.

He wasn’t quite sure how they had reached this point. All he knew was that one moment he’d been eyeing her across the Rabbit Hole and the next he was pinned to his bed, Lacey’s glorious body hovering over his own.

"Is this what you want?" she asked, her voice husky and her accent stronger than ever. 

She reached a hand down, cupping him through his jeans and he couldn’t help but buck up against her hand. 

"Yes," he managed to grind out. "God, yes."

Lacey smirked at him, her perfect pink lips quirking up in a smile that was almost cruel.

"Say it, Nicky," she whispered against his ear. "Say you want me."

"I fucking want you," he stammered out. He’d never wanted anything more in his goddamn life. If only she would strip out of that ridiculous mini dress she was wearing, he’d bury himself so hard in her body she’d never want him to leave. He’d make her scream for him.

Lacey gave him another wicked smile, squeezing his cock before she reached for his belt. Nick nearly sobbed when she finally dragged his zipper down as slowly as she fucking could. At long last his tortured cock was free.

Lacey bent her head over him, giving him a look full of dark purpose before she took him into her mouth, sucking so hard his eyes rolled back in his head. He would never last if she continued to do that.

"Wait," he cried, reaching for her. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to push her away or tug her closer. But when Lacey released him with an audible pop and glanced up, she no longer looked like herself.

Instead it was Gloria straddling his knees, her blue eyes large in her pale face.

"Wake up, Nicholas," she said softly, sadly. 

Rush jerked awake with a jolt, his bedside alarm buzzing loudly. He ripped it out of the wall socket and threw it across the room.

His apartment was freezing, he had a raging hard on, and he was alone. Going to the Rabbit Hole had been a bad idea. He wouldn’t try his luck again.


	5. Advanced Quantum Mechanics

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Melissabosquez prompted: Rush catches Lacey peeking in on his class and calls her out.

Lacey ambled down the corridor of the physical sciences building, chewing on her thumbnail. She had an hour and a half to kill before her next class. Usually she’d have headed home for a quick nap, or run over to Granny’s for a cup of coffee on her break. But today, she had another idea.

Dr. Nicholas Rush. She’d run into him three times so far, and she had to admit she was slightly intrigued. The man was obviously intelligent, he was handsome in a nerdy way, and he was the most infuriating person she’d ever met in her life.

Obviously she needed to know more about him.

A quick perusal of the college of sciences schedule had shown her Dr. Rush had a class at 10:00 in room 314. So it was entirely by coincidence that Lacey found herself outside that very classroom at 10:15. 

She glanced into the room through the glass window in the door. Rush was standing at the front of the room scribbling furiously on a projector. She couldn’t hear what he was saying, but his mouth was set in a grim line. He looked decidedly unimpressed.

She stood there for several moments, just watching him. He really was pretty cute. She could appreciate the way his jeans hugged his body, the way his hair fell in his face when he bent over his calculations, he ever looked good in glasses.

Lacey couldn’t remember ever liking a man in glasses. Too bad this one was an asshole.

She really should head off, find a place to kill the rest of her break. But there was something about him that had her rooted to the spot. He was so expressive, his hands fluttering about him as he expressed his point.

She had finally made her decision to leave when Rush’s eyes snapped up and caught hers through the window in the door. She almost thought she saw the beginnings of a smile cross his face.

Lacey stared back, unfazed. She wouldn’t let this asshole intimidate her. So what if he’d caught her spying on him? She would suffer with dignity. 

She wasn’t prepared for him motioning to her to come in. She was even less prepared for him walking toward the back of the classroom toward her.

Lacey froze, completely unsure of what to do. Should she run? Then she’d just look like a coward. 

A second later the door to the classroom flew open.

"Lacey," Dr. Rush said. "How good of you to join us. I never realized you had such an interest in Quantum Mechanics."

Lacey just stood there, staring at the physicist. 

"Well, take a seat," he said motioning her into the classroom. "I’d hate for you to be behind."

Lacey sat down in the proffered desk dumbly, completely unsure as to what was happening, as Rush made his way back to the front of the room.

Somehow she though she’d underestimated the good doctor. He was definitely due for some payback.


	6. Boyfriends

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous prompted: Rush catches Lacey with her boyfriend Keith making out & can't help getting a little jealous.

It was a shit idea, he knew that before he’d even left his office. But he just couldn’t go home. He’d spent the last hour of his work day staring at the picture of Gloria on his desk, overcome with memories of his past. If he went home now, he’d end up dreaming about her and he’d wake up feeling even worse.

No, tonight he needed a drink. And the easiest place in Storybrooke to grab a drink was the Rabbit Hole.

Never mind that the last time he’d been there he’d been faced with Lacey and ended up having dreams filled with her. Anything would be better than ending his night crying over his dead wife. 

He tried to remember that conviction as he pulled up in front of the bar, parking on the curb and heading toward the dank brick building.

He was almost to the front door when movement in the alleyway to one side caught his eye. He wouldn’t have bothered looking closer until he heard a hauntingly familiar Australian accent.

"Fuck yeah, baby," Lacey cried.

Rush stared into the alleyway, allowing his eyes to adjust to the darkness. He could just make out Lacey, pinned to the wall by a tall dark haired man.

The man was kissing her, one hand sliding up her thigh to cup her ass beneath her short skirt. A strange feeling flared up in Rush’s chest at the sight. Something akin to jealousy. But that was ridiculous. He had no claim on Lacey. For Christ’s sake, he didn’t even know the girl’s last name. 

A second later, the tall man had scooped Lacey up, pinning her between the wall and his body as her legs wrapped around his waist. Rush let out a breath he hadn’t even realized he’d been holding. Of course Lacey had a boyfriend. She was a beautiful woman.

He shook his head and headed into the bar. It looked like he’d be drinking to forget two women tonight. 


	7. A Good Dream

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ripperblackstaff prompted: Can you (Lacey) tell us your dream in detail?

Lacey was running late. That seemed to be a recurring theme in her life these days. This time she couldn’t even blame Belle and a bottle of wine for her tardiness. She’d simply lost track of time and now she was ten minutes late for her chemistry lab.

She skidded to a halt outside the door, taking a deep breath before charging into the classroom.

"Well, well, Miss French, you’re quite late," Rush said with a smirk.

And that wasn’t right, was it? Her instructor for her chem lab was a bored graduate student who wore a hemp necklace and cargo pants. Not the smug physicist who was currently reclining against the desk at the front of the room, the top two buttons of his blue oxford shirt hanging open and giving her a peek at his smooth tanned chest.

"What are you doing here?" she managed to stutter out despite her surprise.

Rush just shrugged. “I could ask you the same thing,” he said, sauntering toward her. ”A woman like yourself has very little to offer an academic setting such as this. Don’t you think you’d be better off scampering back to whatever street corner you came from?”

Lacey felt her cheeks heating, not with embarrassment but anger. If he thought the way she dressed somehow indicated her intelligence level, he had another thing coming.

"You fucking prick," she growled. "I can be whatever the hell I want. I’ll be the best damn chemist you’ve ever seen and I’ll do it all in a goddamn G-string if I so choose, got it asshole?"

Rush remained infuriatingly calm.

"I’d like to see that," he breathed.

She hadn’t realized just how close to her he was. Somehow during their conversation, he’d made his way across the classroom and was no more than a few inches from her, his hot breath fanning out across her face.

"What exactly do you want from me?" Lacey asked, hating that her voice trembled ever so slightly.

"I think you know," he said softly.

A moment later his lips had crashed down against hers, hard enough to bruise. It wasn’t a gentle kiss, it was raw and desperate and far from loving. She pulled away as soon as she could and slapped him hard across the face.

"I’m not your plaything, Nicky," she said scathingly.

"No," he agreed. "But you want me to fuck you, admit it."

"Never," Lacey moaned, pulling him back in for another desperate kiss.

His hands scrabbled with the fabric of her skirt, hiking it up over her hips before plunging his hand down the front of her knickers. Lacey gripped on to his shoulders as his fingers spread her folds, teasing and infuriating.

Just when she thought she couldn’t take anymore, that she was going to lose her ever loving mind if she didn’t come and soon, he pulled his hand away.

"I fucking hate you!" she groaned. Rush just rolled his eyes at her, grabbing her knickers and pulling them down with one swift movement. Then he scooped her up and plopped her down on one of the lab tables none to gently.

"Oh shut up," he growled, before he dropped to his knees and Lacey’s entire world imploded.

His tongue went to work between her legs, circling her clit as his stubble scraped deliciously along the inside of her thighs.

"Fuck, Nick!" she cried out, gripping his hair and urging him on.

A few swipes of his tongue had her trembling, on the brink of sanity. Then his lips closed around her clit, sucking hard and she screamed, coming harder than she ever had in her life.

She fell back against the table as Rush pulled away, looking down at her haughtily.

"Not such a bastard now, am I?"

Lacey sat up with a start, her alarm blaring from somewhere to her right. She was in her bedroom, alone. No surly physics professors to be seen.

"Oh, fuck," Lacey sighed, hitting snooze and burying her head beneath her pillow.


	8. Belle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous prompted: Belle hears about the meetings between Rush and Lacey.

"Lacey!" came Belle’s voice through the phone.

"What?" Lacey jumped, narrowly avoiding sloshing wine all down her front. It was their usual Monday night phone call, but Lacey had drifted off sometime after her sister’s third story about what an amazing boyfriend "John" was. It was impossible to think of the imperious Scotsman as anything but Mr. Gold. Hearing her sister refer to him so casually still freaked her out, even if they had been dating for going on six months.

"I asked what was new with you," Belle repeated.

"Oh, not much. Just school and stuff."

"Any guys I should know about?" her sister asked.

Lacey bit her lip. For the first time in a long time she had no answer to that question. Well, unless you counted several run ins with a misanthropic professor. But Lacey wasn’t about to mention that.

"Nope," she said simply.

Belle was quiet for a long moment. 

"Who is he?" she asked finally.

"Who is who? I just told you I’m not seeing anyone."

"If you’re not seeing anyone, it means you’re hung up on someone and can’t be bothered to mess around with anyone else," her sister replied. She could almost feel Belle rolling her eyes through the phone. "So who is he?"

"There’s no one!" Lacey repeated, putting down her wine glass on her side table and sitting forward on her bed. "I’m just having a bit of a dry spell."

"You’ve never had a dry spell."

And goddammit, why did her sister have to know her so well? It was true that save for an ill advised hook up with Keith a couple weeks ago, she hadn’t sought out any male attention. In fact, she’d quit going out to the Rabbit Hole altogether. Seeing Rush there a few times had scared her off. She didn’t like the way she felt when he looked at her. She was intrigued by him, but she loathed him. And then there was that dream. It all made her vaguely nervous. She’d never felt nervous around a guy before.

"Lace?" came Belle’s concerned voice from the other end of the line. "Are you alright?"

"Yeah," Lacey replied with a sigh. "I don’t know. I feel weird."

"How so?"

Lacey was silent for a long moment, but her sister waited patiently for her explanation. 

"Okay, so there is a guy…"

"I knew it!" Belle interrupted. 

"It’s not like that," Lacey said, annoyed. "We’ve run into each other a few times, and every time is worse than the last. We just push each others buttons and I get increasingly pissed off. The first time we ever spoke he called me a slag, for Christ’s sake."

"Okay," Belle prompted. "Ignore the bastard."

"I do!" she assured her sister. "I’ve been avoiding him. It’s just I can’t quite stop thinking about him."

"So you like him," Belle said.

"No, I don’t think I do," Lacey replied, clearly confused. "I think he’s infuriating. We clearly don’t get along at all. I suppose he’s kind of handsome, but he’s older. He’s probably close to Gold’s age. I think he’s Scottish too."

"There’s nothing wrong with a little experience," Belle said sagely. "And the accent is sexy."

Lacey rolled her eyes. “I don’t know. Maybe I should just fuck him and get it out of my system. Then everything can go back to normal.”

Belle let out a giggle. “I think you have a crush, Lace. I don’t think sleeping with him is going to help that.”

"I don’t have a crush!" Lacey exclaimed. "When have you ever known me to have a crush on anyone. I don’t crush."

"The lady doth protest too much," Belle quoted with a smug voice. 

"Shut up!"

"I never thought I’d see the day," Belle continued. "You’ve got it bad for an older, Scottish asshole. You have to take back every bad thing you’ve ever said about John."

"Absolutely not," Lacey growled. "I never should have told you anything."

"Of course you should have," Belle said, suddenly serious. "If you like him, stop avoiding him and talk to him. What’s the worst that could happen?"

And that’s what Lacey was so worried about. The worst thing that could happen is she could fall for the bastard. 


	9. Pool

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous prompted: When you're at the bar do u enjoy the view that is Lacey playing pool?

He needed to go home. He’d long since abandoned his notebook. Instead his attention was taken up by the stupid girl in the stupid skirt. The stupid whiskey he was drinking wasn’t helping matters and the whole thing was bloody stupid.

He’d promised himself he wouldn’t come here again. He had no reason to. He could drink better liquor in the comfort of his own Spartan apartment, and he’d get more work done in his office. But something kept calling him back here.

That something was currently bent over the pool table lining up a pocket shot. She had her hips angled just so, to give him a perfect view of her backside in her skin tight skirt. If he didn’t know better he’d think she was torturing him on purpose. But that would require a beautiful young woman to be the least bit interested in him, and no amount of whiskey would make him stupid enough to believe that.

So he enjoyed the view for what it was. Something objectively pretty that he wasn’t sure he even wanted, much less would ever have.


	10. Tits McGee

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous prompted: Have u ever gotten jealous of Rush talking to another woman who seems to be very interested in him?

She was minding her own business. At least that’s what she told herself. If she ended up on the 4th floor of the physical sciences building, the same floor as one Professor Nicholas Rush’s office, then it was entirely by coincidence. Her chemistry professor’s office was on this same floor. She very easily could be looking for him. Nevermind the fact that she’d aced her last chem exam, had no questions for said professor, and was perfectly happy with her grade. She might just want to pop in and say hi. No one could stop her from doing that.

She rounded the corner in the labyrinth like hallway of offices only to see the man himself. She stepped back quickly into an alcove, peeking around to observe him unnoticed.

She wasn’t being a stalker, she told herself. She had every right to be here.

Rush was standing with his back to her, speaking to a tall woman with wavy red hair. The woman let out a loud laugh, almost a cackle, at something Rush had said. She couldn’t imagine anything coming from the physicist’s mouth that would warrant that reaction. He was infuriating, yes. But laugh out loud funny, he was not.

The woman placed a hand on Rush’s arm, whispering something conspiratorially before laughing again. Fucking trollop. She looked too old to be a student, so Lacey assumed she was faculty. She was wearing a tight dress so low cut, Lacey feared a tit would pop out at any moment. It was fucking unprofessional, and coming from Lacey that was saying something. She was practically dressed like some cheesy porno’s semblance of a professor, rather than a real one.

Of course, Lacey was rational enough to admit, part of her was just jealous of the woman’s ample cleavage. She glanced down at her own meager breasts. Even in a push up she had nothing on the leggy redhead. If that was what Nick was into, she really didn’t stand a chance. The woman was her antithesis in every way.

She forced that feeling down as soon as it arose. She didn’t give a shit what Nicholas Fucking Rush was into. She wasn’t even sure what she was doing here.

She stepped out of her alcove, adjusting the shoulder strap on her messenger bag and headed off down the hall, sauntering past Rush and Tits McGee with her head held high. She stopped at her chem professor’s door, a few feet away from them, and knocked sharply, feeling Rush’s eyes on her the whole time.


	11. Professor Greene is a Bloody Nuisance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous prompted: May I ask what WiMM!Rush & Professor Greene were talking about?

"You are joking!" Zelena cackled. "You are absolutely pulling my leg!"

Rush wasn’t sure exactly what he’d said to earn Professor Greene’s rabid laughter, but he was pretty sure his grunted response of “no” to her question of whether he’d been to The Baker Street Pub certainly didn’t warrant it.

"Oh you absolutely must go," she said laying a hand on his forearm, which was currently crossed against his chest in a position meant to close himself off from idle chit chat with his peers. Zelena Greene never seemed to take the hint.

"I know, I know," she said, responding to a question he hadn’t asked. "It seems completely gauche, just an utter travesty of British culture, but they have the best fish and chips I’ve had this side of the pond."

Rush ruminated on the fact that “gauche and an utter travesty of British culture” was an apt description for Zelena herself, but before he could point out the similarities she had leaned forward to whisper conspiratorially.

"We should grab dinner there sometime, quell the homesickness with a pint."

If Rush felt homesick for anywhere it was California and the home he’d shared with Gloria, nothing this woman could reproduce in a tawdry imitation of an English pub. He was pretty sure the disgust he felt was written all over his face, but Zelena didn’t seem to notice as she threw her head back with another of her grating laughs.

"I don’t mean a date, Nicholas," she said, and Rush flinched at her use of his given name. "I am a one man kind of woman and John would absolutely kill me."

Not for the first time, Rush pitied whoever this John was. Though if he had fallen to Zelena’s charms, or lack thereof, he deserved every bit of misery she was sure to heap upon him.

"What a pity that would be," Rush said, turning to exit the conversation only to come face to face with Lacey. She sauntered down the hallway, stopping at an office a few doors down without giving him a second look. He felt something akin to disappointment stab through him.

Zelena must have noticed his diverted attention because she let out a scoff as soon as Lacey entered the office and the door closed behind her.

"She’s slightly underdressed for the weather," Zelena giggled. "These undergraduate girls have no sense of decorum."

Rush gave Zelena a withering glance, eyes flicking down to her ample and exposed cleavage and back up to her face.

"So good of you to lead by example."

Then he stalked off back to his office without another word, wondering just why Lacey’s disregard for him seemed more painful than a conversation with Zelena Greene.


	12. Miss French

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous prompted: Lacey and Rush crash into each other and one of them falls on top of the other.

Rush gave a loud sigh when he stepped outside for his afternoon cigarette break only to find that morning’s snow had given way to sleet, coming down in icy sheets and freezing to everything it touched. Maine was a fucking nightmare, and if he had it all to do over again, he’d have stayed in California, damn the memories.

But instead he was here, freezing his bollocks off any time he wanted a nicotine fix. He vaguely thought of quitting again. He’d tried, once upon a time, for Gloria. She said she wanted him healthy, for them to grow old together and that would never happen if he kept polluting his lungs. Now in a twist of irony she was gone and he was still here. Didn’t seem much of a point to prolonging his life after that. 

He exited the side door of the building, standing on the top of the icy steps and lighting up, pulling the hood of his jacket up over his head to block some of the precipitation. It was amazing, really, how dedicated he was to the deterioration of his health. Smoking in an ice storm. He was bound to get pneumonia out of this at the very least. 

He’d just finished his cigarette, stubbing it out on the icy cement step, when the side door burst open and several students headed out, bracing themselves against the freezing wind. He glowered at them as they passed, contemplating a second cigarette to really fuck his system, when one of them slid precariously on the iced over steps. 

In a burst of altruism, he reached out a hand to steady the person, bundled up tightly with a scarf wrapped around most of their face and neck, but merely managed to slip himself. Grabbing on to the person for dear life, they toppled over the side of the steps, landing hard on the ground four feet below.

The snow would have cushioned his fall, if it hadn’t been frozen over with ice. Instead he found himself with a rather sore tailbone and all the wind knocked from his lungs. Luckily, whoever had fallen on top of him was slight.

He was dazed for a moment, still clinging to the student on top of him, before glancing up into a pair of very familiar blue eyes.

"What the fuck, Rush!" Lacey cried, slapping him hard against the chest as she pulled her scarf down. She struggled to get up, her feet slipping in the slush until she finally gave up, simply straddling him in the snow.

If he didn’t have ice slowly trickling its way down the back of his shirt, he’d consider himself to be in quite an enviable position.

"I was trying to keep you from falling," he groused. "No good deed goes unpunished, it seems."

"Funny," Lacey huffed. "It seemed to me like you were trying to knock me off the goddamned stairs."

"You were slipping," Rush replied defensively. "And if it’s any consolation I had no idea it was you. I was simply being considerate for once in my fucking life."

Lacey glared at him through narrowed eyes, her breath coming in little puffs of condensed air. A second later, she snorted, her giggle taking him completely off guard.

"This is ridiculous," she laughed, suddenly seeming to realize their position. She tried to stand again, her high heeled boot sliding in the snow and she landed against him again with a thud, her knee catching a rather sensitive part of his anatomy.

"Fucking Christ!" he howled, rolling to his side and dislodging Lacey at long last. She landed on her backside next to him with a thump, falling back against the snow.

"Would you believe me if I said I was sorry?" she groaned.

"No," he wheezed. All he’d wanted was a damn cigarette. Now he was freezing in the snow and ice with his stomach muscles clenching uncomfortably against a frontal attack on his balls.

"I don’t blame you," Lacey sighed. 

When the cramping finally passed, he sat up, shaking the snow off of him. Luckily the sleet had slacked off, but he was still soaked to his skin. 

He stood up slowly, feeling every one of his forty-two years in his aching bones. He reached out a hand to help Lacey but she waved him off.

"I don’t trust you," she said, sitting up on her knees and bracing herself against the steps. 

"French," she continued, once she was upright.

"What?" Rush asked, confused. 

"My last name. I said I’d give it to you next time you knocked me over. I think you earned it."

"I wish I could say it was a pleasure to meet you, Miss French," he said, trying to keep his teeth from chattering too badly. "But I’m afraid I can’t."

Lacey threw her head back with a laugh. ”Right back at you, Nicky.”

She turned to leave, but something in him didn’t want to let her go just yet.

"Care to come up to my office to warm up?" he asked. "I do feel some responsibility for how wet you are."

"You give yourself entirely too much credit," Lacey snorted, and Rush rolled his eyes at her innuendo. "But I think we both know how that would end."

At his confused expression she continued. “You and me, naked, clinging to each other for body warmth?”

The image did have its merits, but it wasn’t exactly what he’d had in mind.

"In my office?" he said sarcastically. "This is the real world, Miss French, not some godforsaken melodrama."

"Pity," was her only response. And with that she sauntered off, only the slight shaking of her limbs giving away that anything was amiss.

Rush turned to head back into the building, sure that his lips were turning blue from cold. He needed the benefit of a space heater and a cup of coffee, stat. But he couldn’t help but realize that he may have just successfully flirted with Lacey French. 


	13. Mistaken Identity

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous prompted: Belle goes to the University to bring Lacey something she forgot and meets Rush, who thinks she is Lacey

"Come on, Belle, I need it!" Lacey whined.

"Then go home and get it yourself!" Belle snapped back. She wouldn’t usually be so short with her sister, but it was 9 in the morning and she’d been comfortably wrapped up in John’s arms. The last thing she wanted to do was get out of bed and drive to the university to bring Lacey her lucky sweater. But Belle was on Spring Break while Lacey’s break was the following week. So Belle was free of obligations, other than spending as much time with John as possible, and therefore ripe to run Lacey’s errands.

"I can’t, I have class!" Lacey exclaimed. "My exam is at 10:30 and I need my lucky sweater! I’ve never taken a test without it!"

Belle rolled her eyes at her sister’s superstition, but kicked the covers off and climbed out of bed over Gold’s protests.

"Fine. I’m on my way," Belle said irritably before hanging up.

After a quick trip back to the apartment to locate the famous lucky sweater, and an equally quick trip to the school, Belle found herself stomping across the quad toward the building where Lacey said she would meet her.

Belle sat down on the front steps of the building, the sweater clutched under one arm, and pulled out her phone to pass the time. She’d barely made it through one round of Candy Crush before someone plopped down on the steps next to her.

She glanced up at the man sitting next to her and had to do a double take. He looked strikingly like John. He was perhaps slightly younger, with a persistent five o’clock shadow and a pair of glasses perched on his nose. He was also wearing jeans, which John wouldn’t be caught dead in. But the similarities far outweighed the differences. They could be brothers.

The man slipped a cigarette between his lips before holding the carton out to her wordlessly. Belle just shook her head, still amazed at his resemblance to her boyfriend.

"Not joining me today?" the man asked in a growly voice. "Traitor."

He lit the cigarette and let out a puff before turning back to her with a  quirked brow.

"You’re quiet today," he pointed out. "I believe this is the longest you’ve gone without calling me a prick."

Belle was so caught up in the fact that his Scottish brogue, rolling over her like warm, gentle waves, sounded so much like John’s that she didn’t immediately register his words.

"What?" she asked, puzzled.

"You’re slow today," he mused. "Is that the secret to your wardrobe? Your IQ goes down the more you cover up?" he motioned to Belle’s jeans and sweater.

"Excuse me!"

He quirked his brow at her again. “Are you feeling alright?”

That’s when it hit her. A phone conversation with Lacey weeks ago. “Handsome, older, Scottish, asshole.”

"Dr. Rush?" she asked, a smile starting to spread across her lips.

"Lacey?" he replied.

Belle let out a laugh. “No, sorry. I’m her twin sister, Belle.”

Rush’s eyes widened for a moment. Soft, brown eyes that were all too familiar.

"Oh bloody hell, there’s two of her?’

"I get that reaction a lot when people find out Lacey’s a twin," she said with a giggle.

Rush stubbed out his cigarette against the step. “She’s definitely a presence.”

He stood to leave, but Belle had a sudden stroke of inspiration.

"You’re cute," she smirked. "I can see why Lacey likes you."

That brought him up short. Rush turned on his heel to look back at her.

"What?" he demanded. "Your sister barely tolerates me." 

Belle shrugged. “That’s how I know she likes you.”

Rush stared at her for a moment as though she were a complete imbecile before stalking his way up the steps to the building. Well, if Lacey wasn’t going to do anything about this silly crush, Belle would get the ball rolling.


	14. Best Laid Plans

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous prompted: Zelena walks in on Gold and Belle at the pawn shop when she goes to invite him out for fish and chips.
> 
> Not strictly part of the Lacey!verse, but necessary for what comes after.

Oxford had devolved into a nightmare. After  _the incident_ , she hadn’t exactly been welcome there, and so she’d been shuffled off to some visiting professor program in the states. She’d been prepared to be miserable, but had found the town somewhat charming. Storybrooke University certainly wasn’t as prestigious as her pedigree, but beggars really couldn’t be choosers, and Zelena prided herself on her adaptability.

No, things were definitely looking up for Zelena Greene. 

In addition to the town being a delightful little hamlet, she found the University to be adequate, her colleagues engaging, and the locals positively scrumptious. 

She’d met John Gold on her first day in town when she’d gone to pick up her keys for her new apartment. She’d been enchanted at once. The man was handsome, urbane, rich, and had a to die for Scottish accent. She’d always had a thing for Scots. On top of all that, the man simply radiated power. She’d had on good authority from the rabble at Granny’s Diner that he basically owned the town. He was the de facto leader around here and Zelena had him in her sights.

If there was one thing she knew, it was how to get what she wanted. And Zelena wanted John Gold.

He’d come across rather cold at first. He hadn’t even offered her a first name. A simple real estate records search had revealed that mystery, and she’d set about solving the others that seemed to swirl about the enigmatic man. 

He ran a pawn shop in town, a hobby from what she could tell for he certainly didn’t need the capital, and she’d set about making herself a fixture there. It was quite an interesting shop, filled with antiques and priceless baubles. She’d come in almost daily until she’d eventually got the man talking. He seemed shy, honestly. He was always so reticent when she asked her questions. But she’d been able to glean that he was originally from Glasgow, was divorced and had an affinity for oolong.

He hadn’t actually told her any of that information himself, of course. Men could play so hard to get. But she’d picked up on the accent, tempered by years in the U.S., but still noticeable. She could tell her was divorced because he didn’t wear a wedding ring, but she’d overheard him on the phone with a son once. He also had a photograph of an adorable brunette teenager near the cash register who she assumed was his daughter. Finally, she’d once followed him into the back workroom of his shop under the pretense of getting a necklace fixed and spotted several tins of oolong in one of the cabinets. 

It was worrisome that she’d been rather open in her affections for the past several months and he’d yet to make a move. She assumed a shy, lonely man like himself was unused to plucking up the courage to ask a woman out. But they had danced around each other for long enough. It was time to take action.

She strode down main street with a purpose. Spring was in the air, and nothing would stop her from a romantic night out with John Gold. If she just suggested something simple, she thought he would probably bite. After all, a middle-aged divorcee couldn’t have any better prospects than a beautiful natural redhead with multiple advanced degrees, no matter how rich and handsome he was. 

She was shocked to find the front door of his pawnshop locked and the closed sign in the window, but shrugged it off. Perhaps he was taking a late lunch. Zelena would simply let herself in. If anything, it gave her more time to prepare. She could arrange herself enticingly on that cot she’d spotted in his workroom. The poor man probably slept in his shop occasionally, seeing as he had no one to go home to.

Zelena smiled to herself. That would soon change.

She felt along the underside of nearest window ledge until she found the loosened board where she’d once watched John hide a spare key. Then she let herself in, closing the door quietly behind her. 

She spared a glance at the display cases set around the sales floor, admiring a handsome kris dagger for a moment before shrugging off her coat and tossing it on top of one of the cases. She unbuttoned the first few buttons on her blouse, shaking her curls out to frame about her face. Checking an ornate mirror on one wall, she pinched her cheeks to pinkness and reapplied her lipstick.

With a final wink at her reflection, she was ready.

But as she neared the curtain separating the back room from the sales floor, she heard something disconcerting. Something that sounded suspiciously like a woman’s moan. But that couldn’t be right.

"Fuck," she heard a woman’s voice, low and throaty. "Right there! God yes!"

Zelena could feel the blood pounding in her ears as anger consumed her. Someone had broken into John’s shop to use it for sex! The poor man would be outraged!

With a new purpose, she strode through the curtain, pulling it aside fiercely. 

"Excuse me," she cried. "Just what do you think…"

She trailed off at the sight that met her eyes. Lying across the cot she’d had such high hopes for only a few short minutes ago was the same pretty teenager from the photograph by the cash register. More unsettling was the fact that said teenager was currently naked as the day she was born. The most horrifying fact, one that took several moments to completely register in Zelena’s mind, was that an equally naked John was kneeling on the ground next to the cot, his face buried between the woman’s thighs. 

The girl on the cot sat up with a squeal, crossing her arms over her chest in a belated attempt at modesty. John sat up as well, his mouth glistening obscenely. Zelena felt sick.

"I thought you locked the door!" the girl cried.

"I did!" John gritted out, grabbing a blanket off the cot and wrapping it around his waist before standing. Zelena was still frozen in the doorway, unable to take her eyes off the scene in front of her.

"What the hell is going on here!" Zelena yelled, finding her voice at last. 

"You just broke into private property, is what happened, dearie," John grimaced.

"I thought," Zelena stammered. "I thought we had something!"

"What?" John asked, his face reddening at her assertion. "I barely know you."

"We’ve been seeing each other for months!" she screeched, her world seeming to crash down around her shoulders. 

"What?" the girl on the cot asked. "That’s impossible. John and I have been together for close to a year."

"I thought she was your daughter!" Zelena cried, pointing a finger at the girl. "She’s too young for you!"

"You need to leave," the girl said, standing despite her nakedness. She was short, barely coming to Zelena’s chin. How could a man like John Gold ever pick this little runt when he could have her?

"I need to leave?" Zelena scoffed. "Shouldn’t you scamper off to cheerleading practice or something?"

"Get out," John growled. She’d never seen him look so angry. Usually he just looked bored, pained, she’d assumed it was whatever gave him his limp. But now he looked furious.

"This isn’t over!" she said, turning on her heel and stalking out of the shop. If John could fool around, then so could she. She needed a handsome man to buy her a drink. Luckily she knew exactly the man for the job.


	15. A Lack of Benefits

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous prompted: What exactly is WiMM!Zelena planning on doing with Rush?

Zelena’s mind was still reeling from her afternoon of revelations. She couldn’t believe John had a girlfriend. She found it even harder to believe he had a girlfriend half his age. Honestly, the little bitch looked like she could still be in high school. Well, if John was suffering some midlife crisis, she could wait it out. He’d grow tired of the flat chested little thing soon enough and then she could move right on in. In the meantime, she had a perfectly suitable backup plan.

She pulled her Mercedes up on the corner outside the Rabbit Hole. She knew Nicholas sometimes spent his evenings here though she wasn’t sure why. From what she could tell, the esteemed Dr. Rush was just a bit antisocial. Why he elected to spend time at a bar that catered to the lowest common denominator she’d never know.

She sauntered in, sitting primly at the bar and ordering a glass of red wine from the bartender before scanning the establishment for a familiar face. Hopefully Nicholas had decided to leave the office early tonight and she wouldn’t be forced to buy herself another drink.

She’d managed to get through half a glass of wine when the front door of the bar opened and admitted a most welcome sight.

Nick trudged in, ordering a drink on the other side of the bar and then retreating to a booth not far from the pool table. He hadn’t seen Zelena, and she took the opportunity to observe him.

He was quite handsome. Though not as well put together as John, the two men had definite similarities. They were both slight with dark eyes and gorgeous Scottish accents. Zelena giggled to herself. She apparently had a type.

John was the ultimate goal. But Nicholas would do quite nicely until Gold got over whatever was making him pursue girls young enough to be his daughter.

Nick had pulled out his notebook and was scratching away in it, though his attention seemed to be constantly pulled away toward a game of pool going on not far from him. Well, Zelena had never been much for billiards, but if Nicholas wanted to play she could certainly make an exception.

She stood up, making her way over to Nick’s booth with her glass of wine in one hand.

“Well fancy running into you here,” she said winningly. Nick’s eyes snapped away from the pool table to meet hers as she slid into the booth opposite him. “I was just out for a quick drink after dinner. What brings you here?”

“The solitude,” Nick said sharply.

“I do believe you’ve picked rather a bad place for that,” Zelena smirked, glancing around at the rather crowded bar.

“Clearly,” Nick replied, his eyes once again going to the pool table.

Well, he was certainly being reticent tonight, but Zelena wasn’t put off. She enjoyed a challenge.

“Do you play?” she asked him, and his head snapped back toward her.

“Play what?”

“Billiards,” she said, gesturing toward the tables. “You seem quite interested.”

To her shock, Rush colored slightly, his cheeks tinging pink, though it must have been a trick of the light. She couldn’t imagine the stoic Dr. Rush blushing.

“No, Dr. Greene, I don’t play.”

Zelena gave a slight roll of her eyes. “How many times do I have to tell you to call me Zelena, Nicholas?”

“A bit informal don’t you think?” he asked, taking a sip of his drink and looking off across the bar.

“No of course not,” she replied. “I consider us to be friends, Nick.”

“How lovely for you.”

Zelena sighed, this really was getting nowhere. Nicholas Rush was pricklier than a porcupine. It was time to make her intentions clear.

“Come now, Nicholas,” she said, reaching out to stroke one finger across the back of his hand that was resting on the table. “I think you’ll find being my friend has its  _benefits_.”


	16. Belle Was Right

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous prompted: Did Belle tell (Lacey) about her meeting Rush?

Lacey knew he was watching her. She’d known from the moment he entered the bar and sat down in that booth. She could feel his eyes on her as she bent over the pool table to line up her shot. It sent shivers down her spine, and she was so distracted she missed the eight ball completely resulting in a scratch.

She groaned, forking over twenty bucks to Tom Clark. She hated losing at pool.

She downed a shot of whiskey before glancing over her shoulder to where she knew the good doctor was sitting only to find that he wasn’t alone. Tits McGee, the professor she’d seen him talking to a few weeks back was sitting across from him, trailing a hand down his arm. As she watched, Rush pulled away, pressing his back against the vinyl booth seat. She’d never seen him look so uncomfortable, and considering she’d once fallen on top of him in a snow bank, that was saying something.

Well, who said she couldn’t be a hero and save the damsel in distress? Normally she wouldn’t bother, but she was more than a little tipsy and she didn’t like the way that redhead was touching her man.

That was a funny thought. Rush definitely wasn’t hers. But ever since her conversation with Belle, she’d wondered what it might be like if he was.

Shaking her head at the thought, Lacey adjusted her tight skirt, pulling it up slightly to reveal even more of her legs and strutted over to the booth.

“Nicky!” she cried, plopping down beside Rush and quickly planting a kiss against his stunned, parted lips. She barely had time to register that they were deliciously soft before a shriek erupted from the woman sitting across from them.

“What the bloody hell do you think you’re doing here!” she cried.

Lacey glanced over at the woman. She looked distraught, her chest heaving beneath her low cut top. Her cheeks were an angry red and her eyes were slightly crazed.

“Do we know each other?” Lacey asked, genuinely confused.

“Don’t play coy with me you little tart,” the woman growled. “I saw you not four hours ago fucking Mr. Gold in the back of his pawnshop, now you’re here moving in on Nicholas? Are you the companion of choice for every man in this town?”

Lacey glanced from the outraged woman opposite her, to Rush who looked terribly confused and back again before bursting into laughter.

“You must have met Belle,” she said with a smirk at the other woman. “My sister. And would you believe that she’s the good twin?”

If anything the woman looked more deranged.

“How many of you bloody are there?”

“I’m a septuplet,” Lacey said, leaning forward with a wink.

“You must think you’re very clever,” the woman said angrily, getting to her feet. “But trust me, John will hear about this.”

With that, the woman stomped off, leaving Lacey alone with Rush who was still staring at her in stunned silence.

“What?” she asked finally, feeling slightly embarrassed under his gaze.

“You kissed me,” he said simply.

Lacey shrugged. “You looked like you needed someone to save you from the wicked witch, there. Besides, don’t tell me you didn’t enjoy it.”

“I didn’t have a chance to kiss you back.”

Lacey shrugged again. “Play your cards right and maybe you’ll get another chance one day.”

“How about now?” he asked, leaning forward slightly.

Lacey bit her lip, feeling herself blushing slightly. And goddammit all, Lacey French did not blush.

“I really do have a twin,” she said suddenly, at a loss for anything else to say. “I wasn’t the one fucking Mr. Gold in his pawnshop.”

“I know,” Rush said, not leaning away from her. His face was mere inches from hers. “Belle. I met her.”

“What?” Lacey asked, her turn to be shocked. “When? Where?”

“Yesterday,” he replied. “On campus. I thought she was you.”

“That does seem to happen,” Lacey conceded.

“She said something very interesting,” Rush said with a smirk. “She told me you liked me.”

Lacey was definitely going to have words with Belle about that.

“That’s absurd,” she stuttered out. “I’ve never even mentioned you. She was just messing…”

“Lacey,” Rush interrupted her. “Shut up.”

Then his mouth was on hers, kissing her like she’d never been kissed before. One hand came up to tangle in her hair as his other arm wrapped around her waist, dragging her even closer to him. He sucked on her bottom lip causing her to let out a startled little gasp. Rush took the opportunity to taste her, dipping his tongue into her mouth and stroking it against hers. Lacey felt as though every muscle in her body had turned to liquid. She had kissed plenty of men, but it had never felt like this. His lips were hot, insistent against hers but still tender, as though she were something precious, something that should be worshipped rather than the type of girl you fuck against the sink in the bathroom at the Rabbit Hole.

And then just as suddenly as it had begun, it ended. Lacey let out a pathetic whimper as Rush pulled away, slightly breathless, raking his hand through her curls.

“I think Belle was right,” he said with a smirk. And then the bastard scooted his way out of the booth leaving Lacey alone with her very muddled thoughts.


	17. A Damn Good Kiss

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Queueingtocomplain prompted: WiMM!Belle - did Lacey get annoyed with you for telling Rush? Did she let anything slip about what happened?

"I cannot believe you!" Lacey cried, storming into the room and slamming the door behind her.

"Hush," Belle said from where she was reclining on her bed, her nose buried in a book. "You’ll wake Dad."

"I don’t bloody fucking care!" Lacey yelled. "You have no right to interfere in my personal life!"

Belle closed her book around her index finger, marking her place, and finally looked up at her sister.

"What are you talking about?"

"What am I talking about?" Lacey asked exasperatedly. "Dr. Nicholas fucking Rush is who I’m talking about. You met him yesterday?"

"Yeah," Belle replied with a shrug. "It was completely by accident. He walked up and started talking to me thinking I was you."

Lacey crossed her arms against her chest and started pacing around the room.

"And you couldn’t just correct him and send him on his merry way?" she demanded.

"I think that’s exactly what I did," Belle said innocently. But Lacey wasn’t buying it for a moment. Belle had assumed Lacey had something going on with Rush ever since their phone call on the subject. Her sister just couldn’t help but meddle, and now look what had happened.

"You told him I bloody well like him, Belle!" she shouted.

"Oh, that." Belle said, having the decency to blush. 

"Yes, that," Lacey spat. "And now the smug bastard actually thinks I like him."

"You do like him," Belle pointed out and Lacey didn’t even have the strength to argue. "So what did he say?"

"He said you told him I like him," Lacey said, slumping to the bed next to her sister. "And then he fucking kissed me."

"What!" it was Belle’s turn to screech. She threw her book down on the floor giving her sister her full attention. "What happened? Tell me everything!"

"He kissed me," Lacey repeated miserably. "And it was the best goddamn kiss of my fucking life."

Belle was beaming, practically bouncing on the bed in excitement. But she seemed to realize her sister wasn’t sharing her enthusiasm.

"Why do you sound so miserable about it?" she asked.

"Because," Lacey sighed. "Now I have to face the truth."

"And that is?" Belle prompted.

"Despite the fact he’s a miserable sodding asshole, I really do like him."

Lacey winced at the inhuman squeal that emanated from her sister at her words.


	18. And the Fallout

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous prompted: Rush/Lacey prompt: Lacey dreams of that kiss in the bar with Rush and what could of happen after.

After her sister had finally stopped squealing in excitement, and their father had come by Belle’s room to yell at them that he had early deliveries to make and needed his sleep, Lacey found herself lying in bed staring up at the ceiling. The glow-in-the-dark stars and planets she’d stuck there when she was ten still glimmered dimly in the darkness, and she wondered if Rush would be able to point out how woefully inaccurate her childhood approximation of constellations were. Then she chastised herself for thinking about Rush at all.

She rolled onto her side with a sigh, curling around her threadbare stuffed monkey that had been her constant companion since kindergarten. She’d never felt so young, so green, wanting things she knew she could never have.

She wished it could be as easy for her as it seemed to be for Belle. Rush had kissed her, and to Belle that meant something. But despite the stickers and stuffed animals, Lacey wasn’t a child. She knew who she was and what men thought of her. She was an easy fuck, a good time. You could have your fun with Lacey and trust her to be discreet. She knew what the town said behind her back, what they thought of her. How could Belle turn out so good and her sister such a wreck?

The simple truth was, Lacey had never given a flying fuck what anyone thought of her and that made people uncomfortable. As much as she liked to have fun, her life was strangely isolating. It was part of the reason she’d held on to Keith for so long, despite his infidelity and general idiocy. 

That’s why the kiss made her so uneasy. Because Rush hadn’t kissed her like she was an object for his lust. He hadn’t even tried anything more than a kiss. No, he’d kissed her like she was something special. It was enough to have a girl imagining all sorts of things, but that was a dangerous train of thought. Lacey had long since learned that men weren’t interested in her for the long term.

Still, as sleep clouded her mind, she couldn’t help but imagine if things had gone differently tonight. If Rush hadn’t pulled away after that first kiss. She would have buried her hands in that long, soft hair of his, dragging him toward her, sucking on his bottom lip until he groaned, begged for her. He’d pick her up, set her down on the bar table and plunder her mouth as he came to stand between her open legs, the rest of the bar be damned. 

Lacey snaked a hand down between her legs, pushing her fingers into her panties and groaning at the friction against her most sensitive places. She was wet at just the thought of him, the bastard.

Working her hand between her thighs, she let her mind wander back to the fantasy in her head. Rush would suck on her earlobe, press searing kisses against her throat as he grappled with her panties, shoving them down her legs so he could touch her. After a moment of infuriating teasing, he’d reach for his belt, undoing the buckle and fly of his pants releasing his gorgeous cock for her. The rest of the bar would fade away as he pushed slowly in to her, so achingly slowly that she’d beg for him, tightening her legs around his waist until he slammed in to her.

Lacey cried out, stifling the sound with the back of one hand as the other continued to rub at her clit. She could picture it so perfectly, Rush’s face screwed up in concentration as he fucked her, pulling out slowly and then slamming back into her with enough force to make her head spin. 

Eventually he’d lose that precious control, his thrusts becoming erratic until he spilled himself inside her. Lacey tensed, her inner muscles clenching around her own fingers as she came hard, Rush’s name spilling across her lips. 

Once they were done he’d tuck himself away, stepping back from her and tossing out a snide comment before he turned and left. 

They always left. And there wasn’t enough of her to keep a man like Rush’s interest.

Lacey rolled over, burying her head in her pillow, and cried.


	19. Avoidance Manoeuvres

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous prompted: WiMM remix prompt: Lacey pretty much trying to avoid Rush the best she can after the kiss.

It had been a week since  _the incident_ , as Lacey had taken to calling the kiss, and she’d successfully avoided Rush in that time. It had helped that she was now on Spring Break and had the week off from school. That meant no running into Professor Rush on campus.

The Rabbit Hole was another matter entirely and she’d taken to avoiding the bar to make sure she didn’t run into him. Instead she’d started hanging around Granny’s while Ruby worked the late shift, munching on fries and reading trashy romance novels to pass the time. 

"Why are you here?" Ruby asked her Wednesday evening as she wiped down the counter after the dinner rush. "You’re off all week, why aren’t you out enjoying life?"

Lacey just shrugged.

"Tired of the usual scene, I guess," she lied.

The truth was, she was terrified of running into Rush. She had feelings for him, real, actual feelings that extended beyond a tingling in her nether regions (though she felt that too) and she was vaguely horrified. For one, she was certain he could never feel anything for her beyond a base attraction.

On top of that, as a rule, Lacey didn’t get involved with men. Keith had been one thing, but they’d never been strictly exclusive, and despite the length of their relationship she’d never felt anything for him beyond mild attraction. Keith had been safe, Rush was a different matter entirely. 

And then there was the even more horrifying thought that perhaps Rush was interested in her for more than just sex, in which case she couldn’t imagine why. She was fairly certain they’d run out of things to talk about after twenty minutes conversation. The man was hard to talk to on a good day, add to that the fact he was a bloody genius and she was sure she couldn’t keep his attention for longer than it took to say “Good evening”. 

No, it was best she avoided the man altogether.

"Well if you’re so bored with Storybrooke, why don’t you go visit Belle in Boston?" Ruby asked, refilling Lacey’s coke. 

"She was just here," Lacey replied. "It’s not like I haven’t seen her recently."

Ruby shrugged. 

"If I had a free place to stay in Boston, that’s where I’d be."

Her friend had a point. She hadn’t been to visit Belle yet this year, and even better, Boston was hours away from Nicholas Rush.

"Not a bad idea," she conceded.


	20. Boston

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous prompted: WiMM remix: Belle doesn't understand why her sister is avoiding Rush.

Belle was shocked when her sister turned up on her doorstep late Thursday afternoon, barreling into her room with a bag slung over one shoulder in a fit of manic energy.

"So this is where the magic happens?" Lacey exclaimed, plopping down on Belle’s twin bed and kicking off her shoes. "Does Gold ever stay here? I can’t see him in a dorm room."

"No," Belle answered, closing the door and crossing the room to her sister. "Usually we get a hotel room."

"I bet you do," Lacey said with a wink.

"Not that I’m not thrilled to see you, Lace," Belle said haltingly. "But what exactly are you doing here?"

"Spring Break," Lacey returned as if that explained everything. "I wanted to get out of Storybrooke for a while so why not come visit my baby sister?"

Belle suppressed an eye roll. “For the thousandth time, three minutes does not make you my big sister.”

"Sure it does!" Lacey smirked. "I have a whole three minutes extra life experience. Honestly, you could benefit from my wisdom."

"Lacey," Belle said warningly. "Why are you here, truthfully?"

Her twin sighed, the manic energy flatlining in a moment and leaving her sister looking miserable. 

"I just couldn’t be there," she explained. "There’s too much going on. It was getting exhausting."

"What was getting exhausting?" Belle asked, sitting next to her sister on the bed.

"Avoiding Rush," her sister mumbled, her words barely understandable.

"Why?" Belle asked, genuinely confused. "He kissed you."

"Exactly," Lacey replied, leaning back against Belle’s pillows and staring down at her fingernails. 

"I don’t follow. Isn’t that a good thing?"

"No, it’s not," Lacey said miserably. "I wish I could be like you, I really do. You hooked up with John and the very next day you were in a super secret relationship and everything was roses. But that doesn’t happen for girls like me. Girls like me get Keith’s, not smart, handsome scientists who can do infinitely better than me."

"You’re insecure," Belle stated, the truth hitting her. She’d never seen this side of her sister before. Usually Lacey was the pursuer, finding a man she wanted and going after him. She was confident, brash, completely in control. To see her so intimidated was abnormal, like watching a dog walk on its hind legs. 

"No I’m not," Lacey lied. "I just know that nothing can ever come of this so why try?"

"How do you know if you don’t try?"

"Because I know!" she cried, jumping up from the bed. "We have nothing in common except that we probably both want to fuck each other and usually that’s enough for me, but…it just doesn’t feel like enough."

"But —" 

"I don’t want to talk about it!" Lacey snapped. "Now I came to Boston to have fun. Let’s go have fun."

With that, Lacey stalked out of the room and into the hall, tapping her foot impatiently. With a sigh, Belle grabbed her purse and followed. It was going to be a long weekend. 


	21. Gloria

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Melissabosquez prompted: Belle and Lacey decide to find out more about Rush and google him. An article with/about Gloria pops up.

"What are you doing?" Lacey asked, sliding up behind where her sister was seated at her desk, clicking away on her laptop keys.

"Nothing!" Belle said, a little too quickly, slamming the laptop shut.

Lacey eyed her suspiciously. It was Friday morning after a late night spent at one of the local college bars. Belle clearly hadn’t expected her sister to wake up so early, but the air mattress on the floor of Belle’s dorm room wasn’t exactly conducive to sleeping in.

"Let me see," Lacey demanded, grabbing the laptop off the desk and running back to plop on the air mattress with it gripped between her hands.

"No!" Belle exclaimed, grabbing after Lacey. "You don’t want to see, I promise!"

"What, did Goldie send you nudes?" Lacey asked with her nose wrinkled up comically.

"That would require him learning how to use his camera phone, so no," Belle said, rolling her eyes.

"He’s such an old man," her twin exclaimed with a giggle.

"Oh shut up, he’s only four years older than your precious Dr. Rush," Belle snapped, before clamping her mouth shut.

"And how would you know how old he is?" Lacey asked, glaring at her. 

Her eyes flicked down at the computer in Lacey’s hands before settling back on her sister’s face.

"Ah," Lacey breathed, before opening the laptop and looking at the screen.

"I googled him," Belle admitted. "I just wanted to know more about him. He’s really fascinating. He’s an expert on all sorts of things. He was even involved in this big shady government program before it got shut down. But I can’t find much information on it."

Her sister continued to glare at her. 

"I told you this was a Rush free weekend, Belle."

"Sorry if I want to know more about the man who stole my sister’s heart," Belle grumbled. 

"He hasn’t stolen anything!" Lacey said adamantly. "Not even a good night’s sleep…" she trailed off as she clicked around on Belle’s computer for a moment.

"Holy shit," she deadpanned.

"What?" Belle asked, coming to sit next to her sister on the mattress.

"I found an obituary for a Gloria Rush. I think it’s his wife."

"He’s a widower?" Belle asked.

"Gloria Lombard Rush passed away on October 6th in Berkley, California after a battle with cancer. A noted concert violinist, she was born in London on September 13, 1974. She is survived by her husband, Dr. Nicholas Rush," Lacey read off in a monotone. "The article is only a couple years old."

"She was lovely," Belle remarked, looking at the photo of a smiling blonde woman that accompanied the article.

"Yeah," Lacey agreed before shutting the laptop and handing it to Belle. "You’re right, I didn’t want to see that."

Lacey got up and headed into the en suite bathroom while Belle opened up the laptop again. Quickly finding Rush’s faculty page on the U of Storybrooke website, she jotted down his office number and stuffed it in her pocket. She didn’t want to meddle, but her sister was making it hard not to. 


	22. Matchmaker

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous prompted: Rushacey prompt: Belle attempts to match-make Rush and Lacey.

It had taken some finagling, but Belle had managed to get Lacey to agree to head home.

First, she’d made up a story about an important exam on Monday that she needed to study for, but Lacey had assured her she had work she could do at the University library as well. She’d tried telling her that her suite mate Ariel’s boyfriend Eric would be visiting for the weekend and their living quarters would be cramped, but Lacey insisted she was fine sharing a bathroom with three other people. It finally took Belle telling her that John had decided to come up for the weekend and that Lacey was more than welcome to tag along with them to dinner and a movie that had Lacey grabbing the next bus to Storybrooke.

She felt bad about lying to her sister, she really did. But it was for her own good. Lacey was feeling insecure about pursuing a relationship with Dr. Rush, and she had absolutely no reason to feel that way. Belle, for one, had been in her shoes. When she’d first started seeing John she’d felt like a silly little girl in comparison to a rich, successful, world traveled man like Mr. Gold. But here she was, almost a year on, and she’d never been happier. Maybe it wouldn’t work out, but Lacey had to take a leap of faith. Since she seemed unlikely to do it on her own, she’d just have to push Lacey off that ledge instead.

She pulled out the phone number she’d looked up earlier and clutched it in her hand. Taking a deep breath, she grabbed her cell phone and punched in the number. It rang five times before someone picked up.

"Dr. Rush speaking," came an exasperated brogue on the other end of the line.

"Hey," Belle said, pitching her voice slightly lower. "How’s it going, Nicky?"

"Lacey?" came his confused voice. 

"Yeah," Belle lied. "I, uh, know I’ve been hard to pin down lately, but I was wondering what you were up to tonight."

"Oh were you," Rush growled. "Because I was rather under the impression you were avoiding me."

"Don’t be ridiculous," Belle trilled. "What possible reason would I have to do that?"

"Indeed," Rush murmured. "Well in answer to your question, working is what I’m doing tonight."

"Well, all work and no play makes Nick a dull boy."

"Then you obviously know nothing about my work," Rush countered.

Belle rolled her eyes, even though Rush couldn’t see her through the phone. The man was definitely infuriating.

"Look," she said tensely. "I’m going to be at the Rabbit Hole tonight around ten. If you happened to be there at the same time, well…" she trailed off, not really sure where she was going with that thought.

"Noted," Rush coughed. "If there’s nothing else, Miss French?"

"Um, no," Belle managed. 

And she was promptly met with the click of him hanging up. 

Well, he and Lacey were just made for each other weren’t they, she thought. Glancing down at her phone, she punched in Ruby’s number. Not a bad matchmaking plan for being four hours away.

* * *

"I don’t wanna go!" Lacey whined for about the twelfth time that night.

"Since when are you averse to a night at the Rabbit Hole?" Ruby asked, putting the finishing touch to her lipstick in the mirror of the diner bathroom.

"I’m just over it," Lacey grumbled.

"Well, Victor is going to be there tonight and I need my wing woman."

Lacey groaned. “Come on Rubes, he is such a lech! You could do so much better.”

"That’s rich coming from the girl who dated Keith for two fucking years," her friend shot back. "At least Victor has a good job."

"Why can’t you go by yourself?" she asked, following Ruby out of the bathroom and back in to the diner.

"Cause I’ll look pathetic!" Ruby replied. "Come on, a couple of drinks, a round of pool. It’s so not the end of the world."

"Fine," Lacey conceded. "But I’m gonna be a bitch to Whale."

"I wouldn’t expect anything less," Ruby said with a falsely sweet smile.

They reached the Rabbit Hole a little after ten and it took Lacey less than a split second to spot Rush, sitting in his usual corner booth with his ratty notebook and his glass of whisky. She let out a barely audible groan as Ruby rushed off to find Dr. Whale leaving her alone to face Rush’s melting chocolate brown eyes as he glanced up at the doorway.

His mouth quirked up in some semblance of a smile as he pocketed his notebook and headed her way.

"So you finally decided to show," he said. 

"I guess so," Lacey replied. And God fucking dammit if her eyes didn’t flick down to stare at his lips, remembering the way they’d felt against hers. She hadn’t seen him in a week and a half and she swore he’d gotten more attractive in the interim. What the fuck was wrong with her?

Rush looked like he didn’t know what else to say, just standing there staring at her, so she took the initiative.

"Come on, Nicky," she sighed, grabbing his elbow. "I’ll kick your arse in pool."


	23. Distractions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous prompted: LaceyxRush prompt: Lacey teaches Rush how to play pool but it's distracting for Rush when Lacey is so close to him.

"Okay, you’ve got to line up your shot," Lacey said, waving her drink toward him. 

Rush bent forward over the table, the pool cue in his hands slightly slick with sweat from his palms. It was just another Friday night at the Rabbit Hole, but this one was unlike any other. Because now he’d kissed Lacey French, knew what her lips felt like pressed against his own. As much as he hated to admit it, that changed everything.

"No, no, Nicky," Lacey exclaimed as Rush let loose and sent the cue ball slamming against the racked balls in front of it. "Your form is all wrong. You’re never gonna beat me looking like that."

Rush sighed, standing up and shooting Lacey a withering glance.

"Don’t look at me like that," she countered. "I’m trying to help. You’re an abysmal pool player and I need some competition."

Rush continued to glare at her. She really was exquisite. Her dark chestnut curls were pulled up in a ponytail exposing her long, pale neck to his gaze. He wanted to nuzzle her, bury his face against her neck and breathe her in. 

But he couldn’t do that. One kiss didn’t make her his girlfriend. This wasn’t a date. It was two people who happened to be at the same bar at the same time playing a round of pool.

He realized he’d been staring for a second too long and tried to quickly think of a response.

"It’s only fair I let you excel at something," he said half-heartedly turning back toward the table, his tone a far cry from their usual banter.

"It appears if you’re ever going to be up to scratch, I’m going to have to get my hands dirty," Lacey said, setting her drink down on the side of the table and stalking toward him.

He had half a second to wonder what she was doing before she sidled up behind him, grabbing his left hand in hers and his hip in her other hand.

"Bend over,"she said, applying pressure to his hip until he complied. "Now notch the cue above your left thumb, set up the shot and hit it."

She was bent over the table with him, her small hand folded over his, holding it in the appropriate position. He could feel her other hand slide up to settle on the small of his back and he was certain it would burn through his clothes to set flame to the skin beneath. Her breath was tickling the hair on his neck and the floral scent of her perfume was overwhelming. He barely even paid attention as he struck the cue ball, sending it flying across the table and straight into the corner pocket.

"Scratch," Lacey sighed, standing up and moving away from him. He immediately missed her presence. "You’re really terrible at this, Nicky."

Somehow he thought having Lacey’s hands on him should have counted as a handicap


	24. We're Not Alone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anonymousnerdgirl prompted: Rush/Lacey: Rush intervenes when he sees Keith harassing Lacey.
> 
> Anonymous prompted: Rush sees Keith trying to convince Lacey to go out with him again and intervenes. 
> 
> Anonymous prompted: RushxLacey: a drunken Keith tries to force himself on Lacey outside the bar but Rush comes to the rescue and drives Lacey home which leads to Lacey kissing him.

He wasn’t sure what he’d expected when Lacey had called him that morning and told him to go the Rabbit Hole. He supposed part of him was hoping for a repeat of the previous week. That perhaps she’d let him kiss her again. It all seemed rather pathetic now that she’d abandoned him to his corner booth after their pathetic round of pool.

Rush wasn’t an idiot, far from it, in actual fact. He knew Lacey had spent the past week avoiding him like the plague. He was also fairly certain she’d done so because the idea of kissing a middle-aged college professor wasn’t her definition of a good time. He had no qualms about what he was. He was difficult at the best of times, a downright bastard more often than not. He was short, thin, he worked too much and got too little sleep. He had nothing to offer a young, beautiful woman like Lacey.

But when she’d called him that morning, he’d let himself believe that just maybe there was something there after all, something more than just a silly flirtation. He wasn’t sure what game Lacey was playing, but he certainly didn’t have time for it. Just because the Stargate program had officially ended, didn’t mean he’d given up his research. Plus he had three graduate level physics classes to teach.

He watched Lacey, throwing her head back and laughing at something a tall brunette in a tiny red dress was saying. A moment later, she’d bid goodbye to her companion and headed out the door without a backward glance at him. 

“Right,” he murmured, downing what was left of his drink. “Time to go.”

He stomped out of the bar, not paying attention to his surroundings as he went and headed to his car with purpose. It was time to go home and try his best to forget about Lacey fucking French. 

He was almost to his car when he heard a little whimper coming from the alleyway next to the bar. In spite of himself, he turned to look, spotting a tiny figure in a short skirt pinned up against the wall by a hulking figure in a leather jacket. Fucking great, that’s what he needed to see tonight. Lacey clearly wasn’t interested in him, but watching her fuck someone else wasn’t going to do his imagination any favors.

He turned to head back to the car when he heard a stifled scream. Turning back, he saw Lacey haul off and smack her companion before he grabbed her wrist and pinned her arm behind her back.

“You want this, Lace,” the man groaned out, easily overpowering Lacey. “Don’t fight it.”

Rush saw red. He hadn’t been in a fistfight since he was a teenager in Glasgow, but now seemed like a decent time to start one.

Without another thought, he ran toward the alleyway, barreling into the much larger figure. Surprise and alcohol were on his side as the taller man stumbled away from Lacey, releasing his hold on her.

“The fuck?” the man asked, stunned. Before he could get out another word, Rush pulled his arm back and punched the man hard in the jaw sending him reeling backward into the trash bins outside the bar’s side door. 

“Bloody fucking Christ!” Rush exclaimed, gripping his hand. He was pretty sure he’d shattered a bone or two, but it’d been well worth it.

“Nick?” Lacey looked at him in shock. 

“Who the fuck is this?” the man in the trash bins asked.

“Go away, Keith!” Lacey exclaimed. “I’ve told you a million times, we’re through. If you can’t get that through your thick skull I’m gonna call the sheriff.”

“You should call the police anyway,” Rush chimed in. “He was going to…” he couldn’t even say the word.

“I had it handled,” Lacey snapped at him.

“Look man,” Keith said, standing from the trash pile and rubbing at his jaw. “I don’t know what she’s told you, but stay away from this one. She’s a fucking psycho bitch!”

“Go away, Keith!” Lacey screamed, tears starting to stream down her face causing her mascara to run.

Keith backed away, hands held up in supplication, and left.

“Are you alright?” Rush asked her once they were alone.

“Fine,” Lacey replied, rubbing her eyes on the back of her hand. “I told you I had it handled.” 

“Well it certainly didn’t appear that way.”

“What are you, fucking stalking me now?” she growled.

“No,” he shot back. “In fact I was leaving because despite you calling me and telling me to come here tonight you obviously don’t want me here.” 

“What?” Lacey asked confused.

“I don’t have time for whatever games you’re playing, Lacey,” he said, ignoring her confusion. “So I’m going to lay it out there. I think you’re a beautiful, interesting and infuriating woman and I would like to get to know you better. If you can’t handle that, bloody tell me and I’ll stop wasting my time.”

Lacey just stared at him in shock.

“And another thing,” he added. “I may be a prick and an asshole and a bastard and every other name you’ve ever called me, but I refuse to stand by and watch a woman be sexually assaulted regardless of who she is.”

He turned on his heel to head back to his car for a final time when she called after him. 

“Nick, wait.” 

He stopped, but didn’t turn around.

“I’m sorry,” she said, walking up behind him. “I’m a fucking nutcase. You don’t want any part of this.” 

He turned to face her at that.

“I hallucinate imagined conversations with my dead wife,” he said truthfully. “I know a fucking nutcase when I see one and you’re not it.”

Lacey shook her head. “I used to do that. After my mum died I’d imagine whole conversations with her, pretend she was still there. It made it easier. So if you think that makes you crazy you’re wrong. It means you’re grieving.”

She sniffled, another tear or two leaking down her flushed cheeks.

“I’m sorry,” she said again, wiping at her eyes. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I’m crying, my teeth are fucking chattering.”

“It’s adrenaline,” Rush offered. “From…back there.” 

“Thank you for that,” Lacey said with a nod. “I’m sorry I snapped at you.” 

“No matter.” 

She looked so small, her arms wrapped around herself, so vulnerable. He wanted to hold her but knew she’d never let him. He had a feeling he was seeing a side to Lacey she didn’t show often.

“Can I give you a ride home?” he asked. If he couldn’t comfort her it would be the next best thing. 

“Now why would you want to do a thing like that,” Lacey asked with false bravado.

“You’ve just been through an ordeal. I just want to make sure you get home safely.”

Without warning, the tears started again, a sob shaking Lacey’s body.

“Fuck,” she said exasperatedly. “I’m sorry.”

“You’ve nothing to apologize for,” he said seriously. 

“That would be lovely,” she agreed, once she’d gotten her tears under control. “The ride, I mean.”

He nodded walking her to his car and holding the door open for her when they reached it. They drove in silence, but for Lacey’s scant directions. She only lived a short drive from the bar and before he knew it they had pulled up in front of a two story wood frame house, the bottom floor of which looked to be mostly devoted to a florists shop. 

“This is me,” she said quietly motioning to the darkened house. “Well, my dad’s anyway.”

He nodded, not sure what to say. This suddenly felt unbearably awkward, like he was dropping her off after a first date. Of course nothing could be further from the truth. 

“I uh, I’m sorry again about Keith,” she said, turning her body to face his in the front seat. “I broke up with him eight months ago but he’s not quite understood the meaning of that.”

“It’s no problem,” he replied with a shake of his head. “I’m just glad I was there.”

“Me too,” she sighed, reaching a hand out to settle on his knee. “I’m really glad you were there.”

They stared at each other for a long moment, tear filled blue eyes meeting brown. He was just trying to talk himself out of kissing her before Lacey took the initiative, gripping the back of his shaggy hair, pulling him toward her and kissing him soundly, her soft lips yielding to his own. He let out a moan as she traced her tongue along his bottom lip until he opened to her, letting her plunder his mouth with her tongue.

Against his better judgment, he let his hands slide around her waist, pulling her toward him until she was flush against him, her small breasts pushed against his chest tantalizingly.

“Lacey,” he moaned when he managed to break away from her mouth. “We shouldn’t…” 

“Shut up,” she interrupted him, kissing him again; harder and fiercer this time as if she wanted to consume him, melt into him and never leave. Her fingers tangled in his hair, drawing him ever closer and he thought he could drown in her. He knew this was stupid. He was still mourning his wife and she’d just been assaulted by her ex-boyfriend. They were both hurting and broken and for some reason that didn’t seem to matter at all. All that mattered was that Lacey was in his arms, the sweet taste of her overwhelming his senses, and nothing had ever felt so right.

“Do you want to go to my place?” her murmured against her lips, not quite thinking through the implication of his question until he felt Lacey tense in his arms.

“Not for that, I mean not if you don’t want to,” he backtracked. “Just if we’re going to do this I’d rather not be in front of your father’s house. We can just kiss. We can just talk if you want.”

A relieved smile broke across Lacey’s face and it was like the sun coming out on a cloudy day.

“Sure,” she said with a nod, sliding away from him back into the passenger’s seat. He immediately missed her warmth and, as if sensing it, Lacey reached out and threaded her fingers through his right hand giving it a reassuring squeeze.

“Alright then,” he said, putting the car into drive and setting off into the night.

He thought Lacey might be wrong. Maybe they were both nutcases. But at least for tonight, they weren’t alone.


	25. Coffee Tables

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous prompted: Their first time is brought on by pure lust. 
> 
> More like pure lust and sadness, in actual fact.

This was a mistake. A bad, bad, bad mistake. She hadn’t meant to go home with him. She hadn’t even meant to get in the car with him. But she was just so tired of being alone.

She knew that was stupid. She had Belle and Ruby and her dad. She had people in her life that loved her. But they also had their own lives. Belle was in Boston and had a serious relationship. Ruby had other friends, her obsession with Doctor Whale, long hours at the diner. Her dad was consumed with keeping his struggling business afloat. And then there was Lacey. Things had gotten better since she’d started school, but she still felt lost.

Add to that the drama with Keith tonight and it was the perfect recipe to find herself lounging on a leather sofa in a sparsely decorated apartment with the bloody handsomest man she’d ever fucking seen sitting across from her. And when had she started to think that? Lacey blamed the three glasses of scotch she’d consumed since setting foot in the apartment.

They hadn’t actually said all that much, just drank in amicable silence. Every once in a while their mouths would find each other, fusing together for sloppy kisses until one or the other pulled away looking guilty. Whatever connection they’d had in the parking lot outside the bar seemed to dissipate. For a moment there, when he opened up about his dead wife and she’d mentioned her dead mum it seemed like they’d found common ground at long last. Perhaps they’d never have anything in common but their mutual pain and heartbreak. Maybe that was enough. 

But now, in Rush’s living room, with the bright light of his side table lamp illuminating every crack and mar to her façade, she found herself retreating into herself, hiding behind her armor. This wasn’t a place conducive to honesty, not like the dim back alley of a mediocre bar.

Her mind was pleasantly fuzzy as she set her glass down on the floor next to the sofa. Honestly, the man didn’t even have a coffee table. He must have had a house once, back when he was married. She wondered what happened to his things, if he’d just left it all behind when he moved to Storybrooke. Lacey felt if she was ever in his position she would have done the same, just packed up and moved across the country without taking the coffee table. What use was a coffee table in the grand scheme of things anyway?

“What are we doing here, Nicky?” she asked, pushing a hand into his long hair. It was even softer than she’d ever imagined it could be, slipping through her fingers like silk. 

“Talking,” Rush said with a shrug of his shoulders.

“We aren’t really talking though,” she pointed out as she trailed her hand down his chest, running her fingers along the buttons of his shirt.

“We were never very good at that,” he mused. “Tend to yell at each other.”

Lacey bit her lip, considering his words for probably longer than necessary. She couldn’t help but notice that his eyes flicked down to her lips at the action and filed it away for future reference. Not that she’d ever need that information. She was about to truly fuck this thing over.

“You think I’m pretty, don’t you Nicky?”

Rush cocked his head, looking at her critically.

“You wear too much makeup, but I’ve certainly seen worse.”

It appeared she wasn’t the only one retreating behind a mask in the light of the living room lamp. And by God she wanted to knock that mask right off. She wanted him exposed, feeling as raw and vulnerable as she did. If this was what it took, so be it.

Without giving herself time to rethink her actions, she climbed hastily into his lap, straddling his thighs and pressing her lips against his once more. His hands came up to span her waist, sliding up and down her back far too gently.

“I don’t really care if you think I’m pretty,” she murmured against his lips. “Do you wanna fuck me?”

She felt him tense beneath her, his hands gripping her hips tightly before slackening.

“Well if you’re going to beg…” he began. But Lacey silenced him with another bruising kiss. She didn’t want this to be gentle. She wanted it hard and rough and emotionless. She needed to know he wanted her body and nothing more and then the world would make sense once again.

She ground her hips down against his, a wicked smirk blooming across her face at the feel of him hardening beneath her.

“It seems you do want me after all,” she teased, reaching a hand down between them to cup him through the fabric of his jeans. Rush let out a strangled sound as his hips bucked up against hers. 

Lacey smiled in relief. This was safe, familiar even. She knew what to do. She could handle this.

She started attacking the buttons of his shirt, ripping it open and running her hands through the sparse hair of his chest. He was thin, wiry, nothing she couldn’t have ascertained with his clothes on. She liked the way he looked, but she didn’t let herself linger. Instead she reached down to pull at his belt.

Rush was trailing hot kisses across her jaw, down her throat, sucking on her pulse point until she was sure he’d leave a bruise. Good. In spite of herself she wanted to have a memory of this. Wanted tangible proof of exactly what he thought of her. The same shit as everyone else.

Once she’d got his belt unbuckled, pulling the thick leather from his belt loops and tossing it over her shoulder, he surprised her by grabbing her about the waist and reversing their positions. Soon Lacey found herself pressed into the couch cushions, Rush’s mouth moving down her chest as his hand came up to cup her breast through the flimsy fabric of her dress.

She grabbed him by the hair, pulling him back up her body to kiss her properly. She could handle this. If he wanted to take control, she was more than happy to sit back and let him. But if his hands lingered at her breasts, caressing her reverently, his eyes softer than she’d ever seen them, his mouth slightly agape in fucking wonder, well then she was going to have to take back the reins. 

Pushing him back, she straddled him again, pulling her skirt up over her hips and pressing herself against him. Nothing separated them but his pants and the thin lace of her panties. She needed to change that. 

She opened the button and fly of his jeans and his cock sprung forward into her hand, hot and thick and absolutely perfect. Perhaps it wasn’t quite up to the standard of the imaginary prick she’d given him in her dreams, but then they never were, and his was close enough. 

She stroked him roughly, her hand tight around him as her thumb came up to spread the moisture that had beaded at his tip.

“Stop,” he whispered harshly, his voice broken. Her hand froze on him.

“I can’t…I won’t. I won’t last if you do that,” he gasped out, his cheeks tingeing pink at his admission. “It’s uh, it’s been a while.”

Good, Lacey thought. If he finished quickly and left her unsatisfied she’d feel slightly less guilty about this whole encounter tomorrow.

“Fine,” she said, pulling her hands away and kissing him again.

His hands slid up her thighs, cupping her bottom, kneading the flesh there. A second later he tugged at the waistband of her panties and Lacey sat up on her knees allowing him to roll the flimsy fabric down her thighs and then all the way off. 

There was nothing for it now. No use prolonging this. They both wanted it, both needed it and tomorrow would pretend it never happened. This wasn’t a night for romance, it was a night for just getting by with what you had. So with her skirt bunched up around her waist and Rush’s jeans down around his knees they came together.

Rush’s breath escaped him in shallow pants as she gripped the base of his cock, preparing to lower herself onto him. 

“I don’t have any condoms,” he managed to get out between pants. She didn’t really care, here and now, about safe sex. She was on the pill and by his own admission he probably hadn’t been laid since his wife died. She imagined there was little chance of contracting something, but then again, he doesn’t know her. Not really. This is his peace of mind, not hers. She’s nothing but a dirty slag and protection is smart.

She leaned over the side of the couch to where her purse sits abandoned and grabbed a condom out of the side pocket. Tearing the package open with her teeth, she rolled it down on him quickly before sinking down, letting him fill her completely.

Rush hissed, gripping her hips hard enough to bruise but she doesn’t mind. The more battle scars she has from this encounter the better. 

“ _Fuck_ ,” he managed to groan out, throwing his head back against the sofa. 

Lacey couldn’t believe how good he felt, how perfectly they fit together. It shouldn’t feel like this. It should feel wrong and dirty and cheap. But fuck it all she loses herself, thrusting down hard onto his cock until she’s practically seeing stars.

He wasn’t lying when he said he wouldn’t last long, and she can feel him tensing beneath her, struggling not to come after only a few minutes.

Lacey rolled her hips against him, crying out, losing herself in the feel of his cock sliding in and out of her, making her feel whole and alive and  _treasured._  One of his hands snaked up to tangle in her hair, pulling her down for a sloppy kiss as his hips continued to buck up into her erratically.

She wasn’t sure if it was the culmination of months of lust or if she was just so keyed up tonight, but she can feel herself coming apart, the crest of that wave just on the horizon, so close she can taste it. And despite her conviction to leave tonight unsatisfied, like that would make any of this easier, she dropped her hand to the juncture of their bodies, rubbing at herself until she was gasping out his name, breaking apart just as his entire body seemed to clench before his own release.

Lacey slumped against his chest, utterly sated and blissful for one perfect moment. Rush’s arms wrapped around her as they fell to the side, stretching out along the length of the sofa, his pants still down around his knees and her skirt at the level of her ribcage. She’s so tired, so damn tired of everything, but right now, in this moment she felt something like contentment.

Neither one of them said another word as Lacey let her eyes drift shut. She really should leave, but that would require walking home and right now she just doesn’t have the strength. She’ll get up in a few minutes, but for now she’ll bask in the afterglow of something that feels right in spite of all the wrong. 


	26. Alone Again (Naturally)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Melissabosquez prompted: Rush, did Lacey stick around the morning after? How are you feeling? Where does your relationship stand do you think?

He woke up to a crick in his neck, hardly surprising considering he’d spent the night on his sofa without even a pillow for his head. 

Rush rubbed a hand across his face, yawning and trying to remember why he’d slept on the couch instead of retreating the few steps down the hall to his bedroom, when the previous night came rushing back to him.

He sat up quickly, glancing around the room wildly. The duvet from his bed was tucked around him though he couldn’t remember grabbing it last night. More notably, he was alone.

_"Fuck!"_ he groaned, pushing the blanket off only to find that his pants were still down about his ankles. He pulled them up roughly, stalking down the hall toward the bathroom.

"Lacey?" he called, knocking gently on the door. It pushed open under the slight pressure of his knuckles revealing a decidedly empty bathroom. A quick glance into his bedroom across the hall told him that was unoccupied as well. 

She was gone.

He wasn’t sure what he expected. It had been a terrible idea to bring Lacey back to his place. She’d nearly been sexually assaulted, they’d both had too much to drink, and neither one of them had a fucking clue what to do with each other. 

It hadn’t been his intention to get her into bed, or rather on the sofa. When he’d invited her back it was because he wanted to talk to her. Because that short time outside the bar when she opened up just a little bit, was the least lonely he’d felt in years. He wanted to hold on to that as best he could. Then she’d kissed him and he wanted more of that as well. He would have been perfectly happy to do nothing but kiss her all night.

Lacey had seemed determined to do more, though. He was almost certain he’d disappointed her. The last woman he’d been with was Gloria, and she’d been gone over two years. As lonely as he’d been these past years, it had never been enough to make him seek out company.

Hell, he hardly ever even masturbated anymore. When physical needs made themselves known he’d just pour himself harder into his research, channeling that energy somewhere else. After Gloria’s death, he’d tried. Lying alone in bed at night, his bodily urges making themselves known, he’d take his cock in hand and conjure up some faceless curvaceous woman. But inevitably she’d solidify into someone real, until it was Gloria looking back at him. That always ended with him sobbing into his pillow, and after a while he’d quit trying altogether.

He was fucking pathetic. No wonder Lacey left. She probably hightailed it out of his apartment as soon as he was asleep. Even in his prime he’d never be able to keep up with a woman like her, and Rush was certain he was past his prime.

He shuffled back down the hall to the living room, plopping down on the sofa again.

He didn’t think he’d imagined the electricity that passed between them last night, the way they’d fit together so perfectly as though they were made for each other. He didn’t think he’d made up the delicious little sounds she’d made or the look of abandon on her face as she rode him. But he was hardly a reliable source. Maybe she’d felt nothing at all and he was just marveling at the feeling of a real live woman after so many years alone. Perhaps he was projecting his own feelings on to her.

"Fuck!" Rush yelled again, grabbing Lacey’s empty glass from the night before off the floor and hurling it at the far wall where it smashed rather violently. 

She’d avoided him for a week after a kiss. He didn’t want to think about how long it would be until he saw her after this. 

Rush had often thought his humanity, his morality, the part of him that gave a damn, had died with Gloria. But from the thudding of his heart in his chest, the aching raw feeling in the pit of his stomach, that wasn’t true at all. 


	27. Will you still love me tomorrow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> anonymous asked: WiMM!Lacey: How could u just leave Rush?!

Lacey thought she’d feel regret in the harsh light of morning following her tryst with Rush. But when she woke up, snuggled against his chest for warmth in the chilly apartment, she felt content.

It was that thought, more than anything else, that had her easing her way out of his arms, pulling her dress down to cover herself and searching around the floor for her panties. After a few fruitless moments she gave them up as lost and tiptoed to the bathroom to clean up.

A quick look in the mirror above the sink told her everything she needed to know about her night. Her mascara was smeared under her eyes, her hair sticking up out of its sloppy ponytail and her eyes were bloodshot from the alcohol. She was a fucking mess. She only hoped Rush didn’t wake up and see her like this. 

Which was a completely stupid thought to have. Why should she care what Rush thought of her? He was a one-night stand. This wasn’t anything. It was nothing more than a drunken fuck on a beat up leather sofa. It was something she’d done too many times before. It was nothing.

Turning away from the mirror, she quickly scrubbed her face clean and used a bit of Rush’s toothpaste on her finger to clean her teeth. She didn’t relish the walk of shame she was about to endure, but her only other option would be to wake Rush up and have him drive her home. That simply wasn’t going to happen.

She glanced back at the mirror, at her makeup free face, when her eyes caught sight of a hickey blooming at the base of her throat. She trailed her fingers over it, overwhelmed my memories of the night before. They’d made short work of it. No foreplay, just fucking. He hadn’t even lasted all that long. By all accounts it should have been a shit time. But he’d felt amazing, and the way he’d held her made her want to be someone else, someone smart and successful and whole, someone who might be worthy of him.

Lacey swiped angrily at the tears that managed to escape down her cheeks. Why the hell was she crying? She got laid. That was it, dammit.

So why did it feel like something more had happened? Why did she suddenly find herself wanting to curl up next to him and go back to sleep? Why did she want to wake up in his arms, have him make her breakfast, spend the fucking day with him? She barely even knew the man, for fuck’s sake!

She’d never had anything remotely like that. Lacey’s love life had consisted of a quick succession of one night stands with the specter of Keith cast over everything. Even in her “relationship”, they’d never spent much time together outside of drinking and sleeping together. It had never meant much to her. Why was she so damn afraid of something that might? 

Lacey splashed cold water on her face, trying to send all the confusing thoughts fleeing from her mind. She needed to get out of here before she was tempted to join Rush on the sofa once again. Before she could kiss him awake and beg for an encore of the night before. 

Stepping back out into the hall she couldn’t help but peek into his bedroom, wondering just what a man like Rush kept in his personal space. She pushed the door open slowly, seeing a neatly made bed, a side table with an alarm clock, a bureau against one wall, and nothing much else. There were no books, no photos, nothing to indicate anyone lived there at all. It might as well have been a hotel room. A clothing hamper in the corner, slightly overflowing with dirty laundry, was the only indication that anyone frequented the room.

She sighed and leaned against the doorframe. Nicholas Rush seemed like a man in transition. He wasn’t living, he was surviving. Come to think of it, that was a pretty apt description of Lacey herself. Going back to school was a step in the right direction but she was still lost, still completely at odds with herself.

Rush had told her he still had hallucinations of his wife. The obituary she’d found had told her Gloria Rush had only been dead for a little over two years. Even on the off chance he could want her for more than sex, he wasn’t ready. A look around his apartment could tell her as much. She wondered what kind of man he was before his wife died, if she’d brought out the best in him. Beneath the layers of snark and bitterness and sarcasm there was a good man. Perhaps he’d been easier to access when Gloria was alive. 

Without even realizing it, Lacey was crying again. Crying for him this time, rather than herself.

She groaned as she swiped away the tears once more, shivering in her inadequate slinky dress. Didn’t his fucking heating work?

With that in mind, she grabbed the duvet cover off Rush’s bed, carrying it to the living room and carefully tucking it around the surly scientist. It wouldn’t do to have him catching cold because she wasn’t there for body warmth.

Rush stirred slightly in his sleep, and Lacey pulled her hands back quickly. She didn’t want him to wake up. If he regretted last night, it would hurt too badly. If he didn’t, she’d be far too tempted to stay.

No, it was better this way, she thought, as she gently removed his skewed glasses from his face and placed them on the side table. She indulged herself one more time, running her fingers softly through his hair, before pulling away for good.

It didn’t mean anything, she repeated to herself. It was a one-night stand, and that’s it. 

The front door clicked softly behind her as she headed out into the chilly pre-dawn light. By all rights, he should be out of her system now. It was time forget Nicholas Rush.


	28. Interference

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> idontknowwhatsarcasmis prompted: WIMM!Belle: has Lacey told you anything new about Rush? Do you know what happened on your set up? Lacey: Call Belle and tell her what you're feeling! It will help you!

The phone rang and rang before going to voicemail yet again.

_You’ve reached Lacey! You know what to do at the beep._

Belle sighed and threw her cell down on her desk. It was Sunday night and she still hadn’t heard anything from her sister. She was beginning to worry.

There was every chance that her little matchmaking endeavor had been found out. Rush was bound to mention the phone call to Lacey and then she’d know Belle was behind it. Her sister’s number one tactic for when she was upset was avoidance, so it was unsurprising she wasn’t answering her calls.

But honestly, she’d had her sister’s best interest at heart. For some strange reason, Lacey wasn’t pursuing the object of her affection. It was so unlike her sister that it had her worried. If Lacey didn’t make a forward move, she’d let this guy slip through her fingers. Now maybe he was a complete asshole who didn’t deserve a lick of Lacey’s time, but they’d never know that if she didn’t at least try.

Belle’s phone suddenly vibrated against the desk and she pounced on it, answering before it could get out a full ring.

"Hello?" she asked, trying to sound nonchalant.

"What do you want?" came Lacey’s grumpy reply.

"What do you mean what do I want?"

"You’ve called me seven times today, Belle," her sister grumbled. "Obviously you want something."

"Oh," she started, looking for something to say that wouldn’t immediately give her away. "How was your weekend?"

"You called me seven times to ask how my weekend was?" Lacey asked skeptically.

"I just wanted to talk," Belle reasoned.

"Fine, normal," Lacey said with a sigh. "Just an average, normal weekend."

"Oh," Belle said, feeling dejected. Maybe Rush hadn’t shown up at the Rabbit Hole after all. Or maybe Ruby hadn’t been able to convince Lacey to go out.

"What do you mean ‘oh’?" her sister asked, suddenly sounding suspicious. 

"Nothing," Belle replied quickly.

"You just said ‘oh’ in a very particular way!" Lacey exclaimed. "What did you mean?"

Belle kept quiet on her end of the line. She had never been any good at lying to Lacey. She could always smell a rat.

"Isabelle Marie French!" Lacey called.

"I just thought maybe you might have hung out with Dr. Rush this weekend," Belle spat out in a jumble of words.

She could practically feel Lacey’s eyes narrowing through the phone.

"And why would you think that?" her sister asked, bitingly.

"Because I called him," she murmured under her breath, hoping that somehow Lacey wouldn’t be able to hear or ask for clarification.

"You did what?" her sister screamed through the phone so loudly that Belle had to pull the receiver away from her ear or risk hearing loss.

"I called him and pretended to be you," she said, wincing at the unintelligible shouting coming from the other end of the line.

"You’ve got a worrisome habit of doing that. What did you say?" Lacey demanded. "Tell me, word for word."

"I just said that I - that is you - would be at the Rabbit Hole on Friday night if he happened to want to see me. I mean you."

Belle was expecting another onslaught of shouting and pulled the phone away from her ear in preparation, only to be met by silence.

"Lacey?" she asked after a moment. 

"Well some of Friday night makes more sense now," she said, frighteningly calm.

"So you did see him?" Belle asked hopefully.

"Yeah, Belle," she sighed. "I saw him."

"How did it go?" she was almost afraid to ask, but she needed to know that her plan had worked. Lacey had shared an amazing kiss with the man and then avoided him for over a week. She just didn’t want her sister to miss out on something amazing because she was afraid. 

"I fucked him, Belle," she said evenly. "Are you happy now?"

"Are you?" Belle asked tentatively.

There was a long silence before her sister finally answered. 

"No. I’m not," she said raggedly. She sounded as if she were on the verge of tears. "Because this guy was different, and I wanted…I don’t know what I wanted but now I’m just some barfly who fucked him and I’ll never be anything more. Because that’s what I am. So congratulations. You did that."

Belle felt her stomach sink to her feet. 

"You’re blaming me?"

"I was feeling vulnerable, there was this whole thing with Keith, it was just a really bad time to run into him. But you made sure he was there because you can’t fucking keep your nose out of my goddamn business."

"That’s not fair," Belle countered, though she already had a gnawing feeling of guilt in the pit of her stomach.

"You should have trusted me to do this on my own time!" Lacey yelled. "I don’t need you to push me! I don’t need you at all!"

"Lacey!" Belle exclaimed, tears starting to pool in her eyes. Her sister had never spoken to her like that before.

"It’s fucking ruined now, Belle. I don’t even know what it was, but it’s sure as shit over now."

"You don’t know that," Belle tried to reason. "So you slept with him. I don’t really understand the big deal."

"Because fucking doctors with fucking PhDs don’t date 20-year-old sluts who fuck them without a proper date!" Lacey exclaimed. "They don’t want shitty, broken, stupid girls who barely passed high school. The only thing I had going for me was that he might want to fuck me and maybe I could have dragged that out for a bit. But now he got it, and it’s over and…"

Lacey’s voice broke off in a sob and Belle felt like a knife had been run through her chest. 

"That’s not what he thinks, Lace," she said softly.

"How do you know?"

"Because that’s not who you are at all," Belle replied. "You’re smart, Lacey. You might not have applied yourself in high school but you got accepted to college and you’re doing amazing. And you’re fearless. You’re my amazing big sister. You light up every room you enter. You’re absolutely gorgeous, and I’m not talking about your looks because that would be slightly narcissistic of me, I mean your soul. You shine and if you can’t see that, I’m sorry, but it’s true."

"But now I’m just the dumb college girl who fucked a professor," Lacey said dejected.

"If he thinks that, then he’s a complete shit head who isn’t worth your time."

She heard a snort on the other end of the line and took that as a good sign.

"He is a shit head," Lacey said after a moment. "But I want him to be  _my_  shit head.”

Belle smiled at her sister’s admission.

"Then go get him," she said resolutely. "The Lacey French I know always gets what she wants."

"What if he doesn’t want me?" came Lacey’s quiet question.

"Then he’s a…"

"Shit head," Lacey interrupted. "Yeah, I got it."

Belle smiled again, wiping the tears from her cheeks. 

"I’m sorry I interfered," she said after a while. "It’s just when I was hung up on John you were there for me, pushing me to go for it. I wanted to do the same for you."

"I know," Lacey conceded. "I’m sorry I said I didn’t need you. Just stop impersonating me, okay? I feel like all our troubles stem from that."

"I wouldn’t be with John if I hadn’t impersonated you," Belle pointed out.

"Yes you would be," Lacey replied and Belle could picture her sister rolling her eyes. "He knew you weren’t me, remember? That story was only ever going to end one way."

Belle couldn’t really argue there. She’d have cracked and exposed her feelings for Mr. Gold at some point even if she hadn’t pretended to be her sister. That was one risky move that had paid off in spades.

"Well, I wanted him," Belle said. "So I got him. It’s a French girls thing."

On the other end of the line Lacey let out a long sigh.

"I really hope you’re right."


	29. Open

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous prompted: Rush gives Lacey the cold shoulder the next time he sees her because he thinks she doesn't want him but it's actually killing her when he does and she realizes she messed up.
> 
> I actually went less angsty than this prompt!

It was Wednesday by the time Lacey had worked up the nerve to try speaking to Nick again. After she’d made her way home from Rush’s apartment on Saturday morning, she’d crawled under the covers on her bed and stayed there for the rest of the weekend. Her father had left her alone, and she hadn’t bothered leaving her room except for the occasional trip to the restroom.

Belle’s phone call on Sunday night was the first time she’d spoken to anyone since Nick. Her sister’s words of advice rang in her head on Monday as she skipped all her classes and stayed in the darkness of her bedroom, slowly working through her entire cigarette stash.

She wasn’t sure when in the 24 hours since her sister’s phone call she’d decided to follow her advice, but the realization fairly shocked her. Tomorrow, she was going to get up like a normal person, go to school, find Nicholas Rush and ask him on a fucking date.

As soon as she thought the words, an entire landslide of self-doubt came crashing down on her. She was nothing. She was scum. He’d laugh in her face.

But then Lacey had a moment of clarity.

She had nothing to lose.

Honestly, if he told her she was a pitiful fuck and he wasn’t looking for anything more, she couldn’t possibly be any more miserable than she was now. If anything her misery would be usurped by anger, she could smack him in the face, and be done with it.

If he said yes, well, she’d cross that bridge if and when she came to it.

So, on Tuesday morning, she woke up at a reasonable hour and trudged into the bathroom, taking a look at her reflection for the first time in days.

A tiny stick insect with two black eyes stared back at her from the mirror. Or that’s the closest description she could find for what she looked like. She hadn’t taken a shower in nearly four days, she’d smoked enough to probably take ten years off her life and she couldn’t remember the last time she’d had something to eat. She looked skinny and pale and sick. She also looked disgusting.

Turning away from her reflection in contempt, she hopped in the shower, scrubbing away the days of malaise and immediately feeling 100 times better.

By the time she’d combed out her hair, put on a bit of makeup and changed into clothes that weren’t sweats, she almost felt like herself again.

She’d made it out the door and halfway down the street before she felt the creeping feeling of self-loathing slowly overwhelming her, like someone had put a heavy cloak around her shoulders and it was weighing her down. There was no way she could do this.

She whipped her cell phone out of her pocket and quickly punched in Belle’s number.

“Hey!” came her sister’s cheerful voice from the other end of the line. “I’m about to head in to class. What’s up?”

“I can’t do it.”

“Can’t do what?” her sister asked.

“Talk to Rush,” was her sullen reply.

“You still haven’t talked to him?” Belle groaned.

“I’m working toward it,” Lacey said defensively. “I just don’t know what to say.”

“Have you forgotten your advice to me in a similar situation?” Belle asked. “You hold the power. He’s seen you naked and it’s all he’s going to think about. He’ll want to sleep with you again and you’re the only one who knows if he’ll get another chance. I’m paraphrasing of course.”

“He actually hasn’t seen me naked,” Lacey clarified. “It was kind of a half-dressed fumble more than anything.”

“Even better!” Belle said brightly. “See, you played hard to get without even realizing.”

Lacey rolled her eyes.

“Do you want my honest advice?” Belle asked.

“No, I just called to hear what you had for breakfast,” Lacey snapped.

“I think he likes you. Actually, really likes you. I think if you’re open with him, he’ll be receptive.”

“I opened my legs,” Lacey grumbled. “Isn’t that enough?”

“You know what I mean,” her sister admonished. “Try not to be so defensive. Let him in a little bit.”

“Fine,” Lacey sighed. “I’ll try.”

After she hung up with her sister, she turned around and headed back toward the house. Rush would still be there tomorrow. For now, she had to think.

* * *

By Wednesday night she had finally made it to campus. She figured she wouldn’t be seeing him around the Rabbit Hole anytime soon, so she made her way to the Physical Sciences building for her Chem lab, hoping to catch Rush after class.

She had trouble paying attention the entire class, almost dropping sulfuric acid on her lab partner who glared at her angrily and moved a safe distance away. When the class finally ended at 8:00 she was sure she hadn’t absorbed a thing and she was dreading her upcoming final.

She exited the classroom, wondering where to even begin looking for Rush, she really didn’t want to drop by his office, when the answer was plopped right in front of her. She turned the corner from her classroom only to be faced with Nick, slamming a hand against the ancient coffee machine outside the break room in agitation.

His back was to her, so she stood and observed him for a moment, gathering her wits about her.

He was dressed in a white button down, her personal favorite, tucked in to snug jeans that perfectly displayed his adorable bum. He raked a hand through his dark hair as he slammed his fist against the coffee machine one more time, giving a triumphant grunt when the coffee started to dispense into a Styrofoam cup.

God he was handsome. And God did she want him. She had to clench her thighs together at the memory of how he’d felt inside her.

Biting her lip, she purposely brought herself back to the present as Rush collected his coffee and moved to head off down the hallway away from her.

“Hey, Nicky,” she called, noticing the way his back stiffened at her voice.

He slowly turned around, raising an eyebrow at her.

“Miss French,” he replied, taking a sip of his coffee and barely containing a grimace as he choked it down. Honestly, the coffee in the machine was notoriously bitter. There was a café in the student union that had the good stuff, but she supposed Rush considered himself too busy to make that trip. Maybe she could invite him out for decent coffee. That was adequately non-threatening.

Rush was just staring at her, eyes narrowed, as her thoughts rushed by her. She realized she’d been quiet for several long seconds, but now they were here she wasn’t sure what to say.

“Lively conversation as always,” Rush stated before turning to head off back down the hall.

“Wait,” she called, quickly walking the few steps that separated them until she was only an arms length away. “I, uh, I was wondering how you’ve been,” she finished lamely.

“Smashing,” Rush said with an angry tilt of his head. It was only when she drew closer that she noticed how hostile he looked, not really meeting her eyes and staring off down the empty corridor behind her. This called for damage control.

“Look, I’m sorry I had to dash out the other morning. I had a thing.”

“I’m sure you did,” Rush said with a flash of teeth that could hardly be called a smile. “I’m only surprised you didn’t clear out the silverware in payment, or try to nick the television.”

Lacey felt her mouth drop open at that. It was hardly the first time she’d been called a slut, but it still hurt. She felt as though he’d just punched her straight through the chest.

“So I’m back to being a slag, then,” she said angrily, trying to hold back the tears she could feel welling in her eyes. 

“And I’m back to being an arse,” he replied nastily. “The world makes sense once again.”

"You're a bastard," she hissed, crossing her arms against her chest.

"We fucked, Lacey," he said coldly. "Don't make it into something it's not."

He turned away, storming off down the hall, his whole body seeming to vibrate with barely contained anger. She was on the verge of tears, trying to compose herself enough to leave. He was so fucking cruel.

And that’s when Lacey understood. They were so damn alike.

He was hurt and lashing out like a wounded animal. She had hurt him. She didn’t think it was possible, but if he considered her just a one-night stand he wouldn’t be reacting this way. He cared about her and it scared him as much as it did her.

_Be open with him_ , she repeated her sister’s advice to herself.

“Do you want to have dinner with me?” she called after his retreating back.

Rush wheeled around, his face a mask of shock.

“What?” he asked harshly.

“You said you didn’t want to play games, so here it is,” she said, spreading her arms wide. “I like you, and you like me. The other morning, I panicked. Because this is usually where relationships end for me. I don’t do second dates. I don’t usually do first dates, truth be told.”

“What about the guy from the bar?” he asked, walking toward her.

“Glorified fucktoy,” she said with a shrug. “Never really liked him much. But I like you, there I said it.”

“Even after what I just said?” he asked, looking wary.

"You didn't mean it," she said with another shrug. "I bitched out Belle the other day blaming her for everything. Lashing out, I get it."

"So the other night..." he trailed off.

“I panicked," Lacey said truthfully. "I didn’t plan on sleeping with you and I didn’t think you’d ever possibly want me for anything more than that so once you had it you’d be done and –”

She was cut off by Rush looping his arm around her waist and pulling her toward him for a kiss, his lips moving softly against hers, belying the anger she'd so recently seen in him. It was a gentle kiss, sweet, so different from the ones they'd shared the other night. She clutched on to his shoulders, moving up on her tiptoes and sucking on his bottom lip until he let out a heady moan.

Then he broke away leaving her feeling bereft.

“I probably shouldn’t be kissing students in the middle of the hallway,” he said, glancing around them at the empty corridor.

For Lacey’s part, she had almost completely forgotten where they were. She was about to suggest heading up to his office when he glanced down at his wristwatch.

“So dinner tomorrow,” he said, looking up at her. “I’ll pick you up at eight.”

Lacey just nodded as he sauntered off down the hallway, the tension that plagued him earlier seemingly evaporated. She had a date with Nicholas Rush. Now what?

 


	30. Cut Your Teeth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rush and Lacey go on their first date.

Nicholas Rush hadn’t been on a first date in nearly sixteen years. He hadn’t been on a first date since Lacey was a toddler. That was a sobering thought.

Just what the hell was he doing? Lacey was a loose canon. A bloody gorgeous loose canon who had a hold on him he couldn’t quite explain, but she was volatile all the same. If she decided to blow, he wasn’t sure he’d survive the blast. That raw, aching feeling that he'd carried around in his chest after waking up without her had yet to fully dissipate. It would be so easy for her to completely destroy him.

On top of that, he wasn’t entirely sure he was ready to date again. Some part of him felt like he was betraying Gloria, like he was moving on too quickly. Another more rational part of him acknowledged that he would always love Gloria, but she was dead. He’d been dealt a shit hand in life and he had to cope.

He’d spent the past two years surviving rather than living. He woke up, he went to work, he ate, he slept, but he hadn’t felt alive. He’d become resigned to the fact that a large part of him was buried in the ground with his wife, and the shell that was left to go on for the next 40-odd years without her would never be happy again. The only contentment he’d found was through his obsession with his work. He never thought to have a personal life again.

But a pair of blue eyes had changed all of that. Looking back, from the moment he first saw Lacey when he almost ran her down with his car, he knew he was fucked.

He probably wasn’t ready, but Lacey was here, now, and he wanted to see where this road led, damn the consequences.

He checked himself over one last time in his bathroom mirror, hoping he looked presentable. He wasn’t sure what one was supposed to wear on a date these days, so he’d opted for his best jeans with a button down shirt and blazer. He knew he didn’t want to look like he was trying too hard. Lacey would probably show up in something that barely covered her ass anyway, so he wasn’t bothered.

He checked his watch, noting that he had fifteen minutes to pick up Lacey and get to the restaurant in time for their reservation. With one final glance in the mirror and a thought to how any woman could find him the least bit attractive, he headed out to his car.

It was only when he’d pulled up in front of the florist’s shop that doubled as Lacey’s home that it suddenly struck him he hadn’t brought her flowers. Did people do that anymore? His first date with Gloria had been pints at a pub in Oxford. He didn’t think he’d bought her flowers until their first Valentine’s Day together. Was there even a point in bringing flowers to a girl who lived in a flower shop? Like coal to Newcastle. She might hate the things.

He shut off the car before he could work himself into a panic and headed for the front door. It was too late now anyway, no use worrying.

He’d just raised his fist to knock on the front door when it flew open revealing Lacey standing in the doorway.

“Don’t come in,” she said breathlessly. “My dad’s here. You don’t want to meet him and he definitely doesn’t want to meet you.”

She grabbed his hand, pulling him back toward the car and waiting at the passenger’s side door. It was only then that he got a good look at her.

Lacey on a date was exquisite.

Her dress was certainly on the shorter side and quite form fitting, but it was lacking the usual lace, sequins or daring cut outs he’d come to associate with her. It was, for lack of a better word, simple. The emerald green color of her dress perfectly accented her pale skin, the scooped neck showing off just enough cleavage to be tantalizing. But the most shocking thing about Lacey’s appearance was her hair, cascading in long waves over her shoulders. Rush realized he’d never seen her with her hair down before. She was stunning.

“What are you staring at?” she asked, blanching. “Is there something in my teeth?”

“No,” he managed to gasp out. “You look lovely.”

Her cheeks flushed pink at his compliment and she reached out and shoved his shoulder.

“Shut up, Nicky.”

They drove in companionable silence to the little Italian bistro near the docks. The nightlife in Storybrooke was decidedly limited, even for a college town. The restaurant was a step up from Granny's, but still nothing to write home about and Rush wondered not for the first time if this was a good idea. He supposed Lacey had technically been the one to ask him on the date. She'd obviously gone out of her way to look nice. These should be good signs. But he couldn't deny that he was waiting for the other shoe to drop. He recalled with stunning clarity the stinging feeling of waking up without her. 

Pulling up in front of the restaurant, Lacey glanced over at him with a smile that was almost shy. It suddenly struck him that she could very well be as nervous as he was and that realization loosened the knot in his stomach considerably. 

He offered her his arm as they walked in to the restaurant and were seated at a private corner table. By the time they'd been given their menus and told the day's specials, Rush was beginning to feel slightly sick. They hadn't managed to say more than a few words to each other since they'd left Lacey's house. It had been comfortable at first, but as it dragged on he was starting to panic. If there's one thing Nicholas Rush was truly bad at, it was small talk. Conversation had never seemed forced between them before. They'd always had an easy banter, tossing insults back and forth. Maybe when they were playing nice with each other it left nothing more to say. Maybe he should have just invited her to his house for dinner. He couldn't cook, but at least then he could have covered for the lull in conversation by just snogging her senseless.

"You know, when I told you to shut up I didn't mean for the whole night," Lacey said, finally breaking the silence and smirking over the top of her menu.

"Well I never can be sure with you," Rush returned. "I'd hate to end up with a lap full of cranberry vodka again."

"That was months ago," Lacey assured him. "I promise to be much better behaved now that I actually like you."

Rush couldn't help the small smile he could feel spreading across his face at her words. She liked him. It was a fact he already knew, but he didn't think he'd grow tired of hearing it. It was truly a shocking thing to believe.

"I hope not too well behaved," he intoned. Lacey bit back a snort as their waiter appeared at the table to take their drink order. 

Half a bottle of wine later, the conversation was flowing freely and Rush started to think that maybe, just maybe, this might work.

"You know, you're not my usual type," Lacey said, smirking around the rim of her wine glass.

"What's you usual type?" he had to ask, already knowing he'd probably hate the answer.

"Tall, dark, handsome and with nothing going on between their ears."

"So my complete antithesis, then," he nodded. "And you're telling me this because?"

"Not your antithesis, no," Lacey countered with a giggle. "You're plenty handsome." Rush snorted derisively at her assessment. "But I mean the smart thing. Obviously Keith was no brain trust and most of the guys who hang around the Rabbit Hole are similar. You're different." 

"I'll choose to take that as a compliment," he said, pushing his chicken parmesan around on his plate.

"It was meant as one."

She smiled at him shyly again. It was bizarre, the girl sitting across from him was different from the brash, loud Lacey he'd come to know. The Lacey he was used to, who hid behind sarcasm and a tough exterior, seemed to have vanished along with the teased hair and skimpy skirts. But it wasn't that she was someone else. She was just more herself. The smart, witty girl that had always been at her core was still there. He felt like he was getting a look behind the mask, and he liked what he saw. She was letting him in, and something fluttered in his stomach at that. It made him shy as well, a completely ridiculous notion considering he'd already fucked her on his sofa.  

"You've got to be fucking kidding me," came a loud voice from behind them. "Is that Racy Lacey French?"

Lacey visibly tensed, her blue eyes going wide at the intrusion as a young man dressed in a black shirt and slacks with a white apron tied around his waist sauntered over to their table. He had a tray under one arm and looked as if he'd stopped in the middle of bussing a table to come over and harass them.

"Lacey," the man said again. "It's me, Tommy. Remember from high school? Ashley Boyd's graduation party? The hot tub?"

The man made an obscene thrusting gesture with his hips that had Rush seeing red. Lacey merely stared down at her plate as if she wished she could evaporate on the spot.

"Excuse me, but we're in the middle of something," Rush fairly growled, but the idiot boy ignored him.

"I just moved back to town, you know," he continued, leaning against the table seemingly oblivious to Lacey's discomfort. "Shattered my thumb playing football for State so I'm back here now. It sucks, but I'll probably go work for my dad once I get done with this dump."

Lacey finally glanced up at Tommy, her eyes narrowed and her jaw set angrily. "Nick here told you we were in the middle of something, Tommy. You're interrupting."

Tommy glanced over his shoulder at Rush. "Sorry, man," he said holding up his hands. "I'll let you have your turn."

Lacey looked like she'd been slapped, stunned into silence. As Rush watched, she seemed to crumble in on herself.

"So what are you doing later?" the nuisance continued.

"Him!" Lacey spat, gesturing at Rush and he felt slightly vindicated at the boy's shocked expression. "Now please leave."

The boy took a step back. "What, you charge now?"

That was it, Rush stood up suddenly, grabbing the boy by the elbow and dragging him away from the table. They'd attracted the attention of several diners around them as well as wait staff.

"The lady asked you to leave," he hissed. "You're going to obey her wishes, or I'm going to make you wish you'd never been born. Do you understand me?"

The kid seemed to have more muscle than sense and puffed his chest out proudly. "You think you can take me, old man?"

"I think I'm older, have a better lawyer and better insurance and there's very little to keep me from running you over with my car."

A short, balding man who he presumed to be the manager rushed over, inserting himself between the two men. "Is there a problem here?"

"Yes," Rush said, turning to the manager. "One of your employees is harassing my date. I'd like him removed from the premises."

The manager nodded, gesturing to two other waiters who came forward and gripped Tommy by his shoulders.

"Get your hands off me!" Tommy cried as he was nearly dragged back toward the kitchens. He shrugged off the waiters and walked himself, his co-workers keeping a wary eye on him.

"Have fun with Racy Lacey!" he called over his shoulder at Rush. "Just fuck her in the bathroom and get it over with. She's a tired fucking whore anyway!"

One of the waiters grabbed him by the back of the neck and forced him through the kitchen doors. The other diners were consciously looking away, but the quiet that had settled over the restaurant belied their carefully constructed indifference.

Rush sank back into his chair, turning his attention back toward Lacey. She’d been so open with him tonight, more herself than he’d ever seen her. He was afraid what the consequences of this interruption would be. 

She was staring down at her half empty plate, blinking rapidly, trying to keep the tears in her eyes from falling.

"Hey," he said, reaching across the table to take her hand. "Are you all right?"

Lacey blinked again, forcing a bright smile on to her face.

"I'm fine," she assured him with false bravado. "Out with a cute scientist, what could be wrong?"

"Lacey..."

“It was my nickname,” she interrupted. “In high school. Racy Lacey, isn’t that clever? I, um, got around a bit as I’m sure you’ve realized.”

Rush was shocked. He’d expected her to deflect, not open up even more. He wasn’t sure what had happened to Lacey since the morning he’d awoken alone on his sofa, but he wanted to hold on to this.

“Nothing wrong with that,” he said with a shrug, and realized it was true. He couldn’t care less about Lacey’s past. He just wanted a chance at her future.

"Do you want to take his advice?" she asked suddenly, looking up at him with a smirk.

"What?"

"Do you want to fuck me in the bathroom?"

Rush felt the blood rushing south, but he tried to temper his body’s reaction. Lacey was upset and the last time they’d had sex when she was upset it had led to disaster.

"I feel like this is a trick question."

Lacey laughed, tossing her dark curls over her shoulder. "No trick, Nicky, just a simple question. Do you want to fuck me in the bathroom?"

"Of course I do," he managed to rasp out.

Lacey's smile turned positively sinful.

"Meet me in the bathroom in three minutes," she said, standing up primly, and dropping her napkin on her chair. "Don't be late."

She sauntered off toward the restroom, hips swaying in a way that went straight to his groin. Rush just sat there, wide eyed, feeling completely out of his depth. Was she actually serious?

The minutes seemed to tick away slowly and when two and a half had passed he shot up from his seat and followed her down the hall.

When he reached the ladies, he gave a gentle tap on the door.

"Lacey?" he whispered.

The door whipped open and a hand shot out, dragging him in.

"Took you long enough," Lacey smiled. And then she was kissing him, her lips attacking his as she dragged him in to one of the stalls. The door shut behind them and Lacey started for the hem of his shirt, pulling it out of his jeans as her lips trailed down his throat. He was having a very hard time concentrating on anything but the feel of her little hands on the bare skin of his back, but he did his best to pull his mind to the surface.

He gripped her hands, stilling them. "Here?"

Lacey nodded. "Why not?"

"I just..." he didn't really have an answer for her. He'd never fucked in a restaurant bathroom before didn't seem like a good enough reason, certainly not one that Lacey would take.

"Live a little, Nick," she moaned, arching herself against him so that her perfect little breasts pressed against his chest and he could feel the warmth of her body through his shirt. And maybe it was that, the sheer electricity between their bodies. Maybe it was the use of his name, not  _Nicky_  said so derisively but just Nick. Or maybe it was the fact that he wanted her so fucking badly he could barely breathe. Whatever the reason, Rush's resolve dissolved like a metal in hydrochloric acid.

He scooped her up, pressing her against the wall of the bathroom stall. Rush wasn’t a particularly strong man, but she was so tiny, and wedged as she was against the wall, it was no effort at all. Lacey's legs came to wrap around his waist as he licked and nipped at the skin of her throat, down across her collarbone until he reached the swell of her cleavage, breathing in the faintly flowery scent of her skin. 

Lacey gripped his hair, dragging his mouth back up to meet hers in a sloppy kiss. Her hands trailed down to dig into his shoulders, hanging on for dear life when he pushed one hand between them, nudging her panties aside to stroke her molten hot core. 

"Fuck," she moaned, throwing her head back against the wall with a bang. "Ouch."

Rush couldn't help the laugh that bubbled up his throat at that. "Careful, darling."

"Don't," Lacey groaned as he continued to stroke her, pushing two fingers deep inside her as his thumb circled her clit. "Fucking laugh at me, oh God.”

“Not quite, but I’ll gladly take the comparison.”

Lacey dug her fingernails into his shoulder at that, startling another laugh from him.

“Just shut up and fuck me.”

He quickened the pace of his fingers, marveling at the gorgeous look of abandon on her face as her hips jerked against him, riding his hand. Soon she was coming apart, tightening like a vice around his fingers and he buried his face against her neck, stifling a groan at the feeling.

“Holy shit,” she murmured dazedly as her legs went slack around him and he lowered her back down to the ground.

Rush couldn’t help himself, bringing the fingers that had so recently been inside Lacey up to his nose and inhaling the scent of her arousal. Lacey watched with hooded eyes as he sucked his fingers clean, groaning at the musky taste of her. God he wanted more of that, but this just wasn’t the place for getting down on his knees.

Lacey started scrabbling with his belt buckle, getting his pants open and pulling his painfully hard cock out and giving him a few welcome pumps with her hand. Then she was pushing her panties down and off, tucking them into Rush’s jacket pocket and bracing one stilettoed foot against the toilet seat.

With her dress rucked up around her waist, he could perfectly see her sex, glistening with her arousal, pink and perfect. He couldn’t have held back if he wanted to.

Taking himself in hand, he lined them up and slowly pushed into her. She was so hot and wet and tight he thought he might die right here in the ladies restroom at one of the nicest restaurants in town. _Nicholas Rush, age 42, cause of death Lacey French’s perfect cunt. He died with a smile on his face and a truly mediocre chicken parm in his belly._

Lacey moaned, gripping the top of the stall wall with one hand and his hair in the other. The leg that wasn’t propped on the toilet seat found it’s way back around his waist, pulling him even deeper within her and Rush was sure this was the best idea a fucking busboy had ever had.

“Shit, Nick, you feel fucking amazing.”

That was enough to have him moving, thrusting his hips against hers, sliding in and out of her at a punishing pace. This wasn’t exactly a time for drawing things out, so he slammed in to her again and again until she was arching against him, her face screwed up in a tableau of orgasmic bliss.

Then the unthinkable happened.

Somehow, lost as he was in the glories of Lacey’s body, the sound of the door opening permeated his lust-induced haze, and he froze.

Lacey’s eyes snapped open, looking at him quizzically. She was about to voice her displeasure when Rush pressed a hand against her mouth silencing her.

Then she heard it too, Lacey’s eyes going wide at the sound of two women’s voices from somewhere near the sinks. Rush was infinitely glad they’d chosen the last stall in the bathroom, furthest from the door.

“You didn’t lock the door?” he mouthed.

Lacey just bit her lip and shook her head, her cheeks pink with equal parts exertion and embarrassment.

“Be quiet,” he mouthed again, before pulling back and thrusting back in to her. They’d come too far for this to end now.

Lacey let out a low moan before Rush’s hand came up to clap over her mouth again. The conversation near the sinks stopped.

“Are you okay in there?” came a concerned voice, and Lacey dropped her hand from where it gripped the top of the stall wall, holding on to Rush’s shoulder instead.

“Fine,” Lacey called back, her voice suspiciously high pitched. Something in Rush thrilled at the idea they were so close to being discovered, his cock getting impossibly harder inside Lacey. It was an impulse he didn’t want to examine too closely at the moment, but he’d never been this turned on. He thrust into her again and Lacey keened.

“Never better,” she called to the woman outside the stall. “Just ate something funny.”

“Oh…okay,” the voice called back followed by the sound of footsteps retreating.

By the time they heard the door open and close again, Rush was beyond sense, hips snapping against Lacey’s until she shattered around him, gasping against his hand that was still latched over her mouth to keep her quiet. He followed her soon after, emptying himself until he felt weak and boneless.

His legs finally gave out and he slumped to the bathroom floor, Lacey collapsing on top of him.

Then they both broke in to peals of laughter.

“Oh my God!” Lacey cried, covering her face. “We so almost got caught.”

“Yeah,” Rush agreed. “Someone can’t keep quiet.”

“How am I supposed to stay quiet when you fuck me that good,” she sighed, pressing a kiss against his lips. Rush felt a surge of male pride at her words. He hadn’t failed her. He’d kept up with Lacey French. He’d probably be sore tomorrow, but it would be worth it.

He helped Lacey to her feet, dusting himself off and finally leaving the bathroom stall.

“I’m a bit of a mess,” she said, glancing down at her rumpled dress.

“Go wait for me in the car,” he returned, handing her his keys. “I’ll get the check and then we’ll leave.”

Lacey accepted the keys with another kiss, straightening her clothing out as best she could before leaving the bathroom.

Rush staggered their exits as best he could – he didn’t want to be caught standing around in the women’s toilet – then stopped by their table to settle the check. It was only when he went to pull his wallet from his breast pocket that he realized he still had a pair of lacy black panties in there as well.

He let out a chuckle as he signed the bill and headed out to the car to meet Lacey. He might not have bought her flowers, but he thought it was a successful first date all the same. 


	31. A Thousand Bricks from the Sky

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The date isn't quite done.

Lacey was on a high as she skipped her way out to the parking lot. She couldn’t believe she got uptight Professor Nicholas Rush to fuck her in a public restroom. She couldn’t believe she’d forgotten to lock the door. She couldn’t believe they’d almost been caught.

It was exhilarating. Just the type of thing Lacey lived for. She’d gone on a nice, grown up date and still ended up half naked in a bathroom stall. That thought hit her like a thousand bricks from the sky.

Just what the fuck was she doing?

She leaned against Rush’s beat up car, wishing she had a cigarette. Her hands felt suddenly fidgety, her whole body restless. She needed something to do to keep herself calm.

She gave a moment’s thought to just taking Rush’s car and leaving. She had his keys, he was inside paying the check, she could do it. She could run off with her tail between her legs and end this thing once and for all. There was nothing stopping her.

Except her heart, which fractured and cracked at the very thought of hurting him that way. The sight of his wounded face in the rearview mirror might actually break her in half.

She sighed and let herself into the car, settling in the passenger’s seat and waiting patiently for the man inside the restaurant. This was new, uncharted territory. She’d just had a rather successful date with Nick, despite Tommy’s interruption. Now he’d probably take her back to his place for a drink, which would lead to more fucking and maybe she’d even talk herself into sleeping over and not sneaking out the moment he closed his eyes. Maybe she’d wake up in his arms and he’d make them breakfast and they’d just lounge on the couch together like real couples do.

Lacey slammed her fist against the dashboard. Why was this so fucking hard? She wanted this, the whole package. At least she thought she did. Why was it so easy for Belle to just fall into her perfect relationship? What made Lacey so different?

She could feel the tears pricking behind her eyes, the tightness in her chest that told her she was starting to panic. She clawed her hands into the fabric of her skirt, willing herself to calm down. If she let this overwhelm her, she would run. She would leave Nick looking stricken in the parking lot and he would never forgive her. She would ruin this like she’d almost ruined it before.

She liked him. She enjoyed spending time with him. She loved fucking him. She could probably love _him_. And it was only a matter of time before he realized she was worthless.

Lacey shook her head, trying to banish those thoughts. He’d seen her at her worst and he was still here. That had to count for something.

The driver’s side door opened and Nick slid into the seat beside her.

“Where to now?” he asked, glancing over at Lacey. She plastered a smile across her face, trying her best to look open. She’d been trying so hard all night to be open with him. She’d let him in more than anyone, save Belle. She had been herself, and now she was wearing the mask again.

Rush’s smile slipped as he met her eyes.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, reaching over to take her hand. And it was in that moment Lacey realized why her carefully cultivated mask had never worked on him. Nick could see right through it. He’d always seen the real her, even when she hadn’t wanted to show it to him.

“I was starting to panic again,” she replied truthfully. There was no use telling a lie.

Rush nodded, dropping her hand. This was it. This was where he told her she was too exhausting, that he’d had enough.

“That’s alright,” he said, turning the key in the ignition and cranking up the heat. It was only then that Lacey realized she was shivering. “Whatever is happening here, well it's a lot for me too.”

He reached out and took her hand again, rubbing her icy fingers between his warm ones.

“But I like spending time with you,” he continued. “You’re worth the heart palpitations.”

Before Rush knew what hit him, he had a lap full of Lacey. She crawled across the seat, gripping his shaggy hair and kissing him soundly. Somehow he’d known exactly what she needed to hear, and she wanted nothing more than to snog him senseless in the parking lot.

“What was that for?” he murmured against her lips once she’d pulled away to catch her breath.

“Oh shut up,” she moaned, capturing his mouth with hers once more. The kiss was hard and needy, lips and teeth and tongues clashing together. Lacey was impressed they could feel this much passion for each other when they’d just satiated themselves not half an hour ago.

“Far be it from me to complain,” Nick said breathlessly. “But I’ve had my fill of exhibitionism tonight. Might we take this somewhere a bit more private?”

“Drive,” Lacey rasped out in answer, slipping back in to the passenger’s seat.

She was mildly surprised they made it back to Rush’s apartment in one piece. He’d driven like a maniac, slamming down on the gas pedal and paying very little attention to road signs. Of course, that could have been brought on by Lacey’s hand slowly inching up his thigh until she was cupping his growing hardness beneath his jeans.

By the time they made it up to his apartment, she was sure this would end with another rut against a wall. One day, perhaps, they’d manage to get out of all their clothes first. But it didn’t seem that tonight was that night.

Rush hurriedly opened the door, managing to only drop his keys twice before they were stumbling in, the door slamming shut behind them.

Lacey kissed him again, pushing his blazer off his shoulders until it landed on the floor in a crumpled heap, then starting on the buttons of his oxford.

And then Rush froze, pushing Lacey away gently, his hands lingering on her upper arms.

“What’s wrong?” she gasped, following his gaze to the couch. _The_ couch. The location of their first, wonderful, terrible time. The place where Lacey had almost broken them beyond repair. They were back at the scene of the crime, as it were, and it was Rush’s turn to panic.

“I don’t want to do anything you’ll regret,” he said simply.

“It’s a tad late for that,” she smirked, but Rush just continued to stare at her with those melting brown eyes that she could just dissolve into.

“If you’re going to leave again, I’d rather you just go now.”

Lacey dropped her hands from his shoulders. She’d known this was all too good to be true. He hadn’t forgiven her. That was probably wise.

“I can’t promise that I won’t freak out again,” she said, looking down at the scuffed toes of her heels. “But I have been trying.”

“I know you have,” Rush conceded. “Tonight was fantastic. But I don’t want to push you into something you’re not ready for. If you’d prefer a drink, or conversation, or for me to drive you home right now, just tell me. Please.”

And there was her out. She could leave right now. She could chalk the night up as a success. She could dart away with no guilt on her conscience, no fear that she’d fucked things up again. But Lacey had never been one for making good decisions.

“What I want,” she started, looking up at Rush from beneath her lashes and hoping she didn’t lose her nerve. “Is you. On a bed for once, like we’re proper, respectable people.”

“Oh thank God,” Rush breathed, before slanting his mouth over hers, maneuvering her down the short hallway and into his bedroom.

The back of Lacey’s knees hit the mattress and they tumbled down across it in a tangle of limbs. Rush rolled her underneath him, trailing kisses across her jaw and down her throat.

“Might I actually get you undressed this time?” he asked, looking down at her with a quirked eyebrow.

Lacey bit her lip. For all their intimacies, they’d yet to actually see each other naked. It wasn’t unusual for her, when hookups consisted of rutting against each other in the alley outside the Rabbit Hole. But it must seem strange to Nick.

She wasn’t embarrassed of her body, per se. She knew she was attractive. But her best feature was her legs, which were typically on display. She didn’t have much in the way of tits. Her ass was good, but once again, frequently on display. She just figured most men would be disappointed once they actually got her naked.

But Nick was gazing down at her with dark eyes, full of lust. He’d enjoyed her body so far, so why deny him the whole thing?

She nodded, dragging his hands down to the hem of her dress.

Despite his urgency, Nick took his time in stripping her down. His hands grazed along the skin of her thighs as he hiked her skirt higher and higher. Lacey lifted her hips so he could pull it up to her waist. Her panties were still in his breast pocket, so she was shamelessly on display. But Lacey couldn’t find it in herself to care as Nick slid off the bed and onto his knees beside it. His mouth followed the path his hands had taken, starting at the inside of her knee and trailing up. The heat of his breath and the scrape of his stubble along her flesh had her shivering in the cool air of the apartment.

He took his time, dragging his lips along the crease where her leg met her hip, tracing the butterfly tattoo on her left hip with his tongue.

Lacey let out a little moan as he kissed along her stomach, dragging her dress up as he went. For a moment there she thought he might go down on her, and then she’d be in real trouble. If he was half as good as he was in her dreams she might completely lose her mind and propose to him on the spot.

He finally got the dress up to her chest and paused for a moment before pulling it over her head in one swift movement and tossing it to the floor beside the bed.

So there she was, laid out on Professor Rush’s bed in nothing but a lacy, see through bra and the man himself between her thighs. There were worse ways to end an evening.

Rush was staring at her chest, reaching out to cup her breast through the flimsy fabric of her bra. The feeling of the lace scratching over her nipple as Rush rubbed at it had her arching off the bed into his hand.

Rush smiled at her reaction, a genuine smile that made him look ten years younger. He was so fucking handsome she wanted to flip them over and have her way with him right away. But he seemed to be enjoying this slow torture, so she let him have it. She’d get her way soon enough.

He pulled one bra strap down, followed by the other, until the cups of her bra fell away and she was finally exposed to his gaze.

“Fuck, you’re perfect,” he moaned at the sight of her rosy tipped breasts, nipples hardening at his expression and the cold air. He was looking at her as though he wanted to devour her whole, and Lacey was inclined to let him.

“They’re a bit small,” Lacey said with a shrug, trying to deflect. She wasn’t strictly comfortable with his adoration. She’d prefer it if they got back to their usual banter.

In response, Rush reached out to cup her again, one breast fitting perfectly into his hand.

“Perfect,” he said again, breathlessly.

Lacey swallowed hard as his head dipped down to kiss along the tops of her breasts, his stubble scraping against the sensitive skin causing her to arch and moan.

When he finally took one nipple into his mouth, Lacey cried out, gripping onto his hair to hold him to her.

“Oh fucking hell,” she groaned out, her hips rolling trying to find any sort of friction.

He let go of her with a pop, continuing his kisses back down her stomach until he was once again seated between her thighs. His breath ghosted across her cunt and her breath came out in labored pants, her whole body shuddering with anticipation.

He parted her folds with his tongue, and Lacey nearly screamed. She was so over sensitized; her whole body strung tight like a wire that was about to snap. It would take so very little to push her over the edge.

What Rush lacked in skill, he made up for in enthusiasm, lapping at her until she was crying out, shunting her hips against his mouth and gripping his hair so tight it had to hurt.

When he slipped a finger inside her, followed by another, it was too much and Lacey exploded, her muscles clamping down around his fingers as she continued to writhe on the mattress. Rush stroked her through her orgasm, planting little kisses on her swollen flesh that caused her to twitch with aftershocks.

“Goddammit!” she said breathlessly once she’d come back to herself. “Why did you have to be good at that?”

“Would you prefer I wasn’t?” Rush asked with a quirk of his brow as he climbed his way back up her body, settling beside her.

“I’m never going to be able to let you go now,” she laughed a little desperately.

“Good,” was his simple reply as he pulled her against his chest, kissing her sweetly. His hands tangled in her hair and Lacey groaned at the taste of herself on his lips. Fucking hell she was in trouble.

She made quick work of the rest of his buttons, getting his shirt, jeans and boxers off in short order. Then they were both naked, pressed together, skin against skin, for the very first time.

Rush rolled her underneath him, keeping his eyes locked on hers as he lined them up and pushed into her, one hand linking with hers pressed into the pillows above her head.

Lacey didn’t usually like the missionary position. It was too intimate. You couldn’t hide from someone when they were staring you in the eyes as they fucked you. But something about it felt right with Nick. She was guarded, but so was he. He hid behind sarcasm and a perpetual bad mood. But staring into his eyes like this was heartbreaking. There was so much depth to those dark eyes, even clouded as they were by lust.

She could feel the tears forming, and that wouldn’t do at all. She wasn’t unhappy, not by a long shot. She was emotional. She could feel something, deep in the pit of her stomach that was beyond lust and desire. It was something bright and burning, something that went beyond the physical, and she could see it reflected back at her in Rush’s eyes.

And this wasn’t like the alcohol and sadness fueled first time or the desperate fuck in the bathroom. This time it’s real and it’s as terrifying as it is beautiful.

Then Rush started moving and Lacey couldn’t concentrate on anything but the feel of him inside her.

He wasn’t going to last long. Nick’s thrusts were already growing erratic. But Lacey didn’t mind. He’d given her three orgasms already tonight and to ask for more just seemed greedy. Besides, she wanted to watch him lose control, wanted to see him come apart just for her.

“Fuck!” he groaned, burying his head against her shoulder, cutting off their eye contact at long last. He grabbed the backs of her knees, pushing them up against her shoulders until he was hitting so deep, filling her so completely that Lacey found herself climbing up that peak yet again.

She wrapped her arms around him, digging her nails into his sweat slicked back until he completely lost control, growling against her neck, sounding almost feral as he spilled himself inside her with a rush of warmth.

Nick collapsed against her, and Lacey just held him, stroking his back idly as his breathing returned to normal. Eventually he slid to her side, looking at her with sleepy eyes.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured.

“For what?” she asked, honestly puzzled. “That was amazing.”

“But you didn’t…” he trailed off, blushing slightly. If Lacey wasn’t seeing it with her own eyes she wouldn’t believe it.

“I think I came more than enough times tonight,” she said with a lazy smile, trailing her fingers up Rush’s shoulder before tangling in his shaggy hair. “You did an excellent job, Professor Rush. Full marks.”

He chuckled at that, his eyes dropping to the bed beneath them.

“Will you stay?” he asked softly, his voice no more than a ragged whisper.

Lacey nodded, then realized he wasn’t looking at her and couldn’t see. “Yeah,” she said, pulling on his hair playfully. “But only if you promise to make me breakfast.”

Rush laughed again, and she thought she could get used to that sound. Throaty and deep and happy.

“I’m not much of a cook, but I think I can manage eggs and toast.”

“Perfect,” Lacey returned.

Rush pulled the blankets up over them, spooning up behind her and wrapping an arm around her waist.

Lacey closed her eyes, listening to Rush’s breathing even out, his arm a heavy weight against her torso. The bright little embers living in her chest were still glowing away, refusing to be doused. She was spending the night with Nick. He was going to make her breakfast. Maybe they’d curl up on the couch and spend the day watching Netflix like a normal couple. Maybe she could do this.

God, she hoped she could do this.


	32. Satisfied

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A short little follow up to the date. Lacey calls Belle.

Belle awoke to the sound of her cell phone vibrating against her bedside table. Glancing at her alarm clock blearily, she just registered that it was 6:00 in the morning. Who the hell was calling that early? 

The phone fell silent and Belle rolled over, hoping to get at least another hour of sleep, when the phone started vibrating again, shaking so hard that it fell off the side table and clattered against the floor. 

With a groan, she reached out from under the covers and grabbed the phone off the floor.

"What do you want, Lacey?" Because honestly, who else could it be?

"I’m in his bathroom," came her sister’s hushed reply from the other end of the line.

"What? Whose bathroom?" Belle asked, rubbing her eyes and trying to wake up. 

"Nick’s," her sister said exasperatedly. "Dr. Rush. I slept over."

Belle sat up at that. She’d completely forgotten about her sister’s date.

"So," she prompted. "I take it the date went well."

"It went really well," he sister whispered. "Like, so well. Like multiple times well."

"What does that even mean?"

"Lets just say I’m satisfied with how things went," Lacey giggled. " _Multiply satisfied_.”

"Oh, gross," Belle sighed, catching on to her twin’s innuendo. 

"He’s not gross, Gold is gross and yet I have to hear about how fucking great he is in the sack. Come on, this is bonding time! Oh shit…"

Lacey’s words were cut off by a loud clattering on the other end of the line.

"What was that?" Belle asked.

"I’m digging through his medicine cabinet. I dropped some things. He uses shockingly expensive shampoo."

Belle just rolled her eyes.

"Go back to bed, Lacey."

"I am. Do you think I should wake him up for round three? I mean, he’s a little older than I usually date but I think he can keep up."

Belle grimaced. She didn’t need the mental images.

"I’m happy you’re happy, Lace."

"I don’t know if I’m happy," her sister returned. "But I’m definitely…"

"Satisfied," Belle interrupted. "Yeah, I got that."


	33. Good Morning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Early morning blow job. This is purely smut.

After she’d hung up the phone call with Belle and righted the contents of Rush’s medicine cabinet in what she hoped was the way she’d found them, Lacey tiptoed back across the hall and into the bedroom. Rush was still sleeping soundly, lying on his stomach with his face buried in the pillows.

She stood in the doorway for a long moment, just watching the gentle movement of his deep, even breathing. He must have rolled over after she’d gotten up. The covers were twisted around his waist, slipping down and giving her a nice view of his rather adorable backside.

She felt those little glowing embers that seemed to have taken up residence in her chest flare to life, warming her from the inside out. She’d never felt anything like that before and certainly not from a man’s arse. Typically any feelings of warmth happened quite a bit lower down.

Not that he didn’t inspire those feelings as well. Recalling the night before had Lacey tingling from head to toe. Remembering the look in his eyes as he’d pushed in to her had her clenching her thighs together and biting her lip.

It was six in the morning. She should let the poor man rest. But now she was wide awake and he was gloriously, beautifully naked, his skin seeming to glow in the first strains of sunlight slipping through the bedroom window.

“Fuck it,” she muttered, crossing to the bed and spooning up next to Nick. He let out a long, low breath as her movement lightly jostled him before his breathing evened out once more.

Lacey trailed her fingers down the line of his spine, dipping below the sheets and giving his bum a light squeeze.

Rush murmured something in his sleep, rolling over and throwing his arm across his eyes, almost smacking Lacey in the process.

Goddamn he was a heavy sleeper. Either that or she’d fucked him into a coma.

She was distracted from that thought by the fact that Rush was now in a much better position for what she wanted to do. She shrugged out of his button down, which she’d stolen off the floor to wear on her trip to the bathroom, and straddled his waist, running her hands up his chest as she leaned down to kiss and nip at his neck.  

Rush groaned, slowly stirring awake beneath her. His hand came up to span her waist and Lacey sat back with a grin.

“Good morning,” he said sleepily.

“It will be,” Lacey shot back, reaching a hand down to cup his cock, which was stirring awake itself.

Rush gave her a filthy smirk and the next thing she knew she was on her back, Rush hovering over her and kissing her senseless. 

"Just what do you think you're doing?" he murmured against her lips.

Lacey bit back a grin, reaching down to wrap her hand around his length.

"Waking up Nicky," she said innocently.

Rush quirked his brow. "You're calling my cock Nicky? I thought I was Nicky."

Lacey shrugged. "You don't like it when I call you that. I can tell."

"So you thought you'd refer to my manhood by the name instead?"

Lacey just shrugged again.

"Fine," she countered. "I guess Nicky doesn't want a good morning kiss."

Rush's eyes narrowed as if trying to determine if she was really suggesting what he thought she was suggesting. She used his momentary befuddlement to push at his shoulders, rolling him back beneath her and straddling his thighs.

"At least I didn't call him Little Nicky," she smirked deviously before bending over his cock, now standing at attention.

She gripped the base of him, stroking upward as she flicked her tongue over the head of his cock.

"Fuck," Rush groaned, grabbing onto a handful of the sheets. "You keep doing that, you can call it whatever you like."

Lacey's eyes lit up as she drew back a little.

"Even Princess Sophia?" she asked, continuing to run her hand over his length in firm strokes.

"I don't fucking care," he groaned again, throwing his head back against the pillows when she took the tip of him into her mouth, swirling her tongue around the flared head. He was probably going to regret saying that.

Lacey drew back again, enjoying the slow torture of it all. He was hot and hard in her hand, his whole body trembling beneath her touch. This could probably be over very quickly, but she wanted to draw it out.

She ghosted one long fingernail down the underside of his cock, watching it twitch, fluid collecting at the tip of him. Rush gazed down at her through half hooded eyes, his lips slightly parted and his breath coming out in sharp little pants. She vaguely wondered when the last time someone did this for him was. Lacey knows she's the first person he's fucked since his wife. This is possibly his first blow job in years. No pressure then.

Giving in to the urge, she wrapped her lips around his tip. Rush groaned, burying one hand in her hair, his grip tight but not painful.

"You're gonna fucking kill me," he whimpered. Actually whimpered. He's completely at her mercy and Lacey has never felt more powerful than she does here, with her mouth around Nicholas Rush's cock. He'd probably do anything she said as long as she promised not to stop.

She let go of him with a loud little pop, looking up at him with a smirk and a mischievous sparkle in her blue eyes.

"Tell me what you want, Nick," she said in her sultriest voice.

"What the fuck do you think I fucking want?" he replied in a rush of breath.

"I want you to tell me," she countered, placing feather light kisses down the length of him. "I want to hear you say it."

"I want," he panted out. "I want your mouth."

"Where?" Lacey asked, enjoying his discomfort far too much.

"I want you to suck my fucking cock," he cried desperately.

"Now was that so hard?" she giggled.

Rush let out another incomprehensible groan and Lacey rewarded him at long last, taking as much of him into her mouth as she was able, until the tip of his cock was butting against the back of her throat. Rush's hand tightened in her hair, his hips quivering as he tried not to thrust up into her mouth.

She bobbed her head, stroking her hand up and down in concert with her mouth. Rush's eyes slammed shut, his head falling back against the pillows and the hand not buried in her hair clenched at his side so hard she's sure his nails are biting into the skin of his palm. She pushed at the underside of his cock with her tongue, pressing it against the roof of her mouth and Rush can't stop himself, he bucked his hips, gagging her slightly, but Lacey doesn't mind. She swept her tongue along the length of him, painting little circles into his silky, hot skin before hollowing her cheeks around him and sucking as hard as she can.

Rush let out a loud, feral sound when she dropped her unoccupied hand to cup his balls, massaging the tender flesh until they draw up tight against his cock and she knows he won't last much longer.

"Lacey," he moaned. "I'm gonna...I can't...fuck."

He shoved at her shoulder, trying to push her away, but Lacey held fast, gripping on to his hips as she continued to plunge down on to him, letting her tongue swirl around him and her teeth scrape ever so gently.

Rush howled as he finally tipped over the edge, erupting across her tongue as Lacey sucked down every last salty, musky drop of him until all the tension has gone out of him and he's left boneless and muttering beneath her.

"Fucking hell," he panted as she finally released him and crawled back up the length of his body to settle beside him. "I'm gonna get you back for that."

"I look forward to it," Lacey smirked, pressing a lingering kiss against his lips with his taste still on her tongue. "But I think you're a little too tired to make good on that threat right now."

"Mmm, perhaps," he groaned, closing his eyes. She could feel his heartbeat hammering away against her chest. "But it's coming. And you will be too."

Lacey giggled, curling up against his shoulder as his arm came to wrap around her. She could get used to this, the sex, the banter, the comfort. The embers in her chest continued to glow away and she didn't even begrudge them. It was a good morning.


	34. The Last High

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lacey surprises Rush at the office. They finally come face to face with the elephant in the room.

Things had been going well.

Lacey was loathed to admit it, but she was getting comfortable with Rush. She wouldn’t call what they had a relationship, per se. It was more like a friendly arrangement with frequent mind blowing sex. But she was spending an increasing number of nights at his tiny little apartment. And it was getting easier and easier to fall asleep in his arms and stay there. In fact, the last time she’d woken up at Nick’s she’d had no urge to bolt at all. It was an unusual feeling and one she was almost getting used to.

Having a regular fuck buddy wasn’t necessarily new to Lacey, but sticking around the morning after was. She stayed for breakfast more often than not these days, and they’d even hung out a few times without having sex at all. A trip to the grocery store, a morning at the aquarium, they were settling into something comfortable. The days of skulking around the Rabbit Hole hoping for a glimpse of each other seemed well and truly over.

But now Lacey was faced with a hard truth. It was getting too comfortable, and she knew it couldn’t last. So she did what anyone would do in her situation. She reminded herself that it was just about the sex. She ignored the fact that something in her stomach did a little flip flop when he smiled at her. She refused to acknowledge that warm feeling in her chest when he held her tight and buried his face in her hair. She showed up at his office in the middle of finals weeks wearing a schoolgirl outfit underneath her trench coat to remind herself of exactly what they were.

“Lacey,” Rush said with a little smile, looking up from the papers he was savagely swiping at with a red pen. “What are you doing here?”

“Isn’t it office hours?” she asked, shutting the office door behind her and locking it.

A line formed between Rush’s brows as he looked at her with confusion.

“Yes, not that anyone ever utilizes them,” he agreed. “But office hours are for my students which you are distinctly not.”

Lacey just shrugged. “I sat in on your quantum mechanics class once. That counts.”

Rush snorted out a laugh at the memory. “I suppose it does.”

“Well, Professor Rush,” she said in her sultriest voice as she shrugged off her coat and dropped it across the chair in front of his desk. “I’m afraid I haven’t been paying much attention in your class.”

“Is that right?” Rush asked, dropping his pen and leaning back in his chair. She didn’t miss the way his eyes swept over her, taking in the short plaid skirt she was wearing and tight white button down with several choice buttons left undone.

“Yes,” Lacey continued. “You see, I find myself extremely distracted.”

“By what?” Rush asked with a smirk.

Lacey leaned forward, emphasizing her cleavage and preparing to land the blow. 

“My professor is so damn sexy that all I can think about is sucking his cock.”

Rush cleared his throat, squirming in his seat.

“It’s not a great time, Miss French.”

Lacey bit her lip, walking around Rush’s desk and sinking to her knees in front of him.

“I think this is exactly what office hours are for,” she said, tugging his belt free from its loops and unzipping his jeans in short order.

“Lacey,” he began to protest, but a moment later she had his half hard cock in hand, giving him a few firm strokes. Rush pressed his head back against his office chair, letting out a low groan.

“You were saying?” she asked, eyes flashing at him wickedly before taking him into her mouth.

“ _Shit_ ,” he managed to gasp out, one hand tangling in her hair, pulling it out of its carefully pinned bun until her curls fell around her shoulders.

Lacey pulled back, letting him fall from her mouth with a pop.

“Language, Professor Rush,” she chastised him. “You shouldn’t talk like that in front of your students.”

“Then it’s a fucking good thing you’re not my student,” he growled out.

He grabbed Lacey’s arm hoisting her onto his lap and kissing her hard. She let her hands tangle in his hair, grinding her bare thigh against his rigid cock beneath her. Rush gasped against her mouth and she took the opportunity to plunder his with her tongue.

“You’re gonna be the death of me,” he groaned out, pushing her to her feet and spinning her around so her hands were braced against his desk. She felt Rush’s hands slide up underneath her skirt and the moan he rasped out when he realized her distinct lack of underwear.

“I seem to be missing rather a lot of my knickers,” she said with a giggle. “Would you know anything about that?”

“Not a thing,” he said, his hot breath tickling her ear and making her shiver. “What are you doing here, Lacey?”

Lacey rolled her eyes at his question. “I should think that was obvious. I’m seducing my teacher.”

Rush pressed in closer behind her, the heat of him almost scorching through her thin layer of clothes. He placed his hands on either side of her on the desk, his breath fanning out against her neck.

“Well, you’ve succeeded.”

Before she could say anything else, Rush had pulled her skirt up around her waist and buried his hand between her thighs. Lacey went up on her tiptoes at the intrusion, arching her back against Rush as his fingers worked her, teasing and infuriating as always.

“Shit,” she cried out, gripping the edge of the desk tightly.

This was exactly what she had wanted. To reassert that their relationship was based on sex and little else. Things had been getting too close, too comfortable. She needed this. They needed this.

But when Nick slipped a finger inside her, his thumb rubbing at her clit until she was bucking against his hand, losing herself completely to his touch, she had the overwhelming urge to shout out something unforgiveable.

She bent over instead, biting her own hand as she came.

Rush bent over her, kissing her neck as he continued to stroke her through her high.

“We need to be quiet, sweetheart,” he whispered against her ear.

Lacey let the little endearment slide over her, closing her eyes against the unwanted wave of emotion it called up in her. He’d never called her that before.

“Just fuck me,” she gasped, reaching back with one hand to grab at his hip.

A moment later the blunt head of Rush’s cock was at her entrance, teasing her before swiftly entering her from behind.

Lacey keened at the feel of him. Her hand slipped against the surface of his desk, pushing papers, books and trinkets to the floor with a crash. So much for quiet.

Lacey slumped forward over the desk, but Rush pulled her up, pressing her back against his chest as he continued to pound into her. He pulled at the buttons on her blouse, slipping a hand into her shirt and cupping her breast.

“Fuck,” he moaned, burying his face against Lacey’s neck.

Lacey bit her lip to keep from making a sound as Nick’s hips snapped against hers, the obscene sound of flesh against flesh the only noise in the quiet office. He felt so good, he felt amazing. This was all this was, just two people with physical chemistry. He was a man, she was a woman, it was nothing more than that. She didn’t love him, dammit.

Tears pricked Lacey’s eyes and she bit her lip again, this time to keep from saying something unbelievably stupid.

Rush gripped on to her hips, slamming into her once, twice, before spilling himself inside her with a rush of warmth.

He slumped against her back, completely boneless and spent, muttering almost incoherently. But one sentence cut through the haze.

“Love you, Gloria,” he muttered, pressing a kiss against her hair.

Lacey went rigid, his words hitting her like a punch to the stomach. She twisted her neck, looking up into his eyes. Rush clearly realized what he’d done.

“Lacey,” he gasped, his face horrified. “I’m sorry.”

She was speechless for a moment, unable to process what was happening. He'd said he loved her. But not her, never her. 

“It’s fine,” she lied, pushing him off her and stepping away from his desk. “Kind of killed the mood though.”

She stooped over to pick up the debris she’d knocked from his desk only to be faced with a framed photograph. Gloria, looking blonde and beautiful and more mature and put together than Lacey could ever hope to be. The glass in the frame had shattered, a creeping spider web of cracks marring the image behind it.

She placed the photograph back on Rush’s desk with a visibly trembling hand.

She suddenly felt so stupid. Rush may have been fucking her, but he certainly wasn’t thinking about her. Lacey would never be who he really wanted. It felt like all the air had been sucked from the room. It felt as though there was a vice around her chest making it impossible to breathe. She had to get out of here.

“Lacey…” he began again, reaching for her, but she cut him off.

“I have a final tonight,” she exclaimed, her voice sounding high and thin to her own ears. “And clearly I need to change, so…” she trailed off, grabbing her coat from where she’d dropped it and shrugging it back on. “Goodbye, Nick.”

Before he could say another word, Lacey turned, struggling with the lock on the door.

“Shit,” she whispered, yanking at it until the doorknob rattled, frustrated tears gathering in her eyes.

“Lacey,” came that same sad voice from behind her. “Please…”

“Got it!” she exclaimed when the door finally popped open. She walked from the room with her head held high, but as soon as she was out of sight of the doorway, she took off at a run. She wanted to put as much space between herself and Rush as possible.

It wasn’t anything she didn’t already know. He was still in love with his wife. She’d known as much the first night she ever fucked him. But it had been easy to pretend for a while that maybe he felt something for her. Stupid. She was so fucking stupid. Here she'd been worried about her own feelings coming out and Rush didn't even have the decency not to think about another woman during sex.

She managed to make it out to the quad before the tears finally fell. And she hated herself for letting herself get in this deep. She hated herself for caring. She hated that she let a man have this power over her. She didn’t love him, she reminded herself. But oh how she wished she could hate him.  


	35. An Unfinished Puzzle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We would never make a perfect piece to fit  
> We will remain unfinished puzzles as we sit - "Heavy Stone" by Kyla La Grange

Belle was home. Lacey had been looking forward to this day for weeks and now that it was here, she was nervous. She didn't want to talk and Belle was sure to ask tough questions. Her sister could sniff out a rat better than anyone she knew. There'd be no hiding the truth from her, no matter how hard she tried. 

As if on cue, Belle entered the living room, hands perched on her hips. 

“Are you going to tell me what’s wrong?”

Lacey glanced up at her sister before turning back to the fashion magazine laid across her lap.

“There’s nothing wrong,” she said with a shrug.

Belle rolled her eyes, coming to sit on the couch next to Lacey.

“I’ve been home all of three hours and I can tell something is wrong.”

“You’ve been home three hours, shouldn’t you be fucking the town curmudgeon by now?” Lacey shot back.

“I stopped by his place first,” Belle conceded, blushing slightly.

“Of course you did,” Lacey sighed, flipping the page of her magazine and pretending to be engrossed in an article on metallic accessories.

“Well if there’s really nothing wrong, what’s our plan for tonight?”

Lacey finally looked up at that. “What do you mean?”

“It’s Saturday,” Belle clarified. “We’re both finished with finals. Aren’t we going out?”

Lacey cocked her head at her twin. “You’re not spending the evening with Gold?”

Belle rolled her eyes again. “I told you, I already saw him today and we’re getting brunch tomorrow. I’m not that clingy of a girlfriend.”

“Ah,” Lacey sighed, crossing her arms. “I get it. Goldie has a 24-hour refractory period. You need some younger blood, Bells.”

Belle smacked her in the shoulder. “You’re one to talk. What’s the estimable Dr. Rush’s refractory period like?”

Lacey felt her stomach plummet. She’d successfully avoided thinking too much about Rush since their disastrous encounter three days prior. She’d come home, gone to her room and sobbed into her pillow for a half hour, and then she’d snapped out of it. She’d taken that stupid stuffed octopus he bought her and buried it at the back of her closet under old tennis equipment. She took a pair of scissors to the dress she’d worn on their first date and then thrown it in the trash. Finally she’d scrubbed her face clean and headed off to her chemistry final like the name Nicholas Rush had never entered her vocabulary. She was free of him.

Well, that was a lie. But she was trying, dammit, and that counted for something.

She knew she’d stayed silent for too long when she felt Belle’s eyes boring into the side of her head.

“What happened with Rush?” her sister asked.

“Nothing,” Lacey snapped back a little too quickly.

“It’s not nothing, Lace,” Belle pleaded. “I knew something was wrong the moment I saw you. It’s twintuition.”

“There’s no such fucking thing as twintuition!”

“Did you guys break up?” Belle asked, ignoring Lacey’s outburst.

“No,” she replied truthfully. “There was nothing to break up. We weren’t together.”

“You seemed together,” Belle started tentatively.

“Well, we weren’t,” Lacey countered, slamming the magazine shut and tossing it onto the coffee table. “We were fuck buddies and I decided to call things off. No harm, no foul.”

“Why?” her sister asked in a soft voice, one designed not to frighten, to pull the truth from Lacey. But she wasn’t opening up. She couldn’t share her pain, not even with Belle. She wasn’t even sure what she was feeling, only that her insides felt raw, like someone had scooped them out with a rusty spoon. The aching feeling in her chest had only gotten worse in the past few days, no matter how hard she tried to ignore it.

“I got bored,” Lacey lied with a shrug.

Belle stared at her for a long moment. So long that Lacey had to look away, glancing down at the vacuous smile of the model on the cover of her magazine. She knew her sister didn’t believe her, but she was too good to push.

“Okay,” Belle said with a forced smile. “Want to go to the Rabbit Hole tonight? I bet Ruby would be game.”

The Rabbit Hole was the last place Lacey wanted to go. She didn’t want to be reminded of her first kiss with Rush. She didn’t want to go back to the scene of so many of their early meetings. But maybe it’s what she needed. She could kiss someone else in that same booth. She could flirt with some other guy at the bar. She could take back the Rabbit Hole from Rush.

“Fine,” she agreed. “Let’s go out.”

* * *

Nicholas Rush felt like a bastard. It wasn’t a particularly new sensation for him, but for once he was bothered by it. He’d completely fucked things up with Lacey.

He hadn’t seen or spoken to her in days, not that he expected to. Rush didn’t pretend to know much about women, but he was fairly certain shouting out the wrong name during sex was a surefire way to alienate one.

The sad part was, he hadn’t even been thinking about Gloria at that moment. He almost wished he had. Then he could at least feel like his heart had committed to one woman. But Gloria was the farthest thing from his mind when he had Lacey bent over his desk. No, the feelings he felt had been for Lacey and Lacey alone. But he’d only said those words to one person in his life, and the rest had slipped out naturally.

He was a fool. And now he’d not just broken things with Lacey beyond repair, he’d completely disgraced his wife’s memory.

Maybe it was for the best. If he’d told Lacey what he’d wanted to in that moment, they would probably still be in this same position. It was too early. He wasn’t even sure if he really felt that way or was just babbling in post orgasmic bliss. Now he was never likely to know. Lacey would never want to see him again.

After Lacey had left his office, he’d snatched up the photograph of Gloria. The frame was ruined, but he hadn’t bothered to replace it. It seemed fitting somehow that his favorite picture of Gloria now bore the marks of his treachery. He had loved her. Hell, he still loved her. You didn’t stop loving someone just because they did something unforgiveable like dying and leaving you completely alone. And he’d failed her in death now just as he’d failed her in life. He was helpless as she slipped away, grew paler and weaker as the days went by. There was nothing he could do to save her and now he’d betrayed her very memory.

If Gloria were here now, she’d slap him for his treatment of both women. And he’d deserve it.

His dark thoughts had chased him from his office. He couldn’t stay there at the scene of the crime. His apartment was too filled with Lacey, her lost panties in his bottom drawer, his sheets still infused with the scent of her shampoo, the fucking groceries she’d made him buy just sitting in his refrigerator never to be eaten.

So that’s how he found himself three days after the fact walking in to the Rabbit Hole. He’d once sworn never to set foot in the place again, and it surely wouldn’t help get his mind off Lacey. But he had nowhere else to go.

He walked up to the bar, keeping his head down, and ordered a scotch, neat. Usually he'd retreat to one of the booths, but it was the Saturday after finals and the place was more crowded than usual. Regardless, he didn't want to go linger in a booth by the pool table and remember the nights he'd spent there pining after the girl in the short skirts with no last name. He was fucking pathetic then and even more so now that he'd had her and screwed it all up. So he slumped on to a bar stool, downing his drink and ordering another. The bar was close enough to his apartment that he could walk home if need be. Or he could always pass out in a gutter somewhere. That would be a feather in his academic cap. _Esteemed, fellowship award winning physics professor passes out in gutter because he drunkenly misses student he was fucking_. Dean Mills would have a fucking field day. 

"Haven't seen you around here much lately," came a voice, and he glanced up at the bartender. He couldn't remember his name, if he'd ever known it at all, so he just grunted in response. 

"Lacey's here," the bartender continued, nodding over Rush's shoulder to where a group of girls were congregated near the jukebox. Despite himself, Rush turned to follow the man's eye line. Sure enough, there she was, leaning against her sister in a dress so short it would probably give him heart palpitations if he'd had much of a heart left in his chest. As he watched, Lacey downed a shot of something, raising her arms above her head and shouting something that made the girls around her laugh. 

Rush turned back to the bar. Well, at least she seemed happy. There was no point to them both being miserable and if Lacey was doing fine it just proved that he was far more invested in this thing than she had been. He had no doubt he'd hurt her pride, but if her feelings were spared, so much the better. 

"I just remembered you two were friendly," the bartender explained. Rush glared at him from beneath his hair and the bartender gulped audibly. 

"Just keep the drinks coming and spare me your interference," he growled out. The bartender nodded and rushed off to help another, less surly patron.

He should leave. He's sure he's the last person Lacey wants to see and he would hate to ruin her night. But the insidious part of his brain won't hear of it. He should talk to her, try to explain himself. It could only cause more trouble, but what if it doesn't? 

"Hey, Jimmy," called a familiarly accented voice from beside him, hailing down the bartender. "Two more."

Rush startled, nearly upending his drink as he turned to look at the person next to him at the bar.

"Belle," he breathed, heart falling back into a slower pace at the sight of Lacey's sister. 

"Dr. Rush," Belle smiled. She really did look startlingly like Lacey. Then Rush felt like kicking himself. Of course they looked alike. They were fucking identical twins. 

"Lovely to see you again," he murmured, moving back to his drink. 

"I didn't expect to see you here," Belle returned, leaning against the bar. 

Well of course she didn't. He was sure Lacey had told her twin all about his slip up. 

"What did you do to my sister?"

Rush glanced up at Belle's piercing blue eyes. Perhaps Lacey hadn't been as forthcoming as he would have supposed.

"Pardon me?" he asked. 

Belle nodded her head back to where Lacey was chatting with another girl and two very tall and very young men. He felt a stab of jealousy. Perfect. 

"Lacey said you guys broke up," Belle clarified. "But she didn't tell me why. Not the truth anyway. But you're here, so I can ask you."

There was a small flutter in Rush's stomach at her word choice.

"Broke up?" he asked. "She said that?" If she'd used those words, perhaps their relationship had been real. But that just meant he'd broken something infinitely more precious. 

Belle shrugged. "Well, not in so many words. But that was the general gist of things. So what did you do?"

"What makes you think I did anything?" he shot back, suddenly defensive. 

Belle arched an eyebrow at him. "My sister is crazy about you. She wouldn't have ended things unless you did something to screw it up."

"I don't think your sister cares as much about me as you seem to think," he scoffed. 

Belle just shrugged again. "She's seemed pretty miserable to me."

A loud laugh cut through the bar and both Rush and Belle turned to look at Lacey, almost bent over with laughter, her hand clutching the boy next to her's muscular arm.

"She looks happy to me," he intoned.

"Then you don't know my sister," Belle said, her eyes boring in to his. "And that's your loss."

Belle walked off with a toss of her hair and Rush turned back to the bartender - Jimmy apparently - who was watching him intently. 

"The French twins, their tab is on me."

Jimmy nodded once, turning to his register with a slight grin. 

* * *

She knew he was there, sitting at the bar with his whisky. She hadn't expected to see Rush. She'd been fairly certain the only reason he'd started going to the Rabbit Hole was to see her and now that he'd made it clear his heart was still with his dead wife and she was a half assed substitute, she didn't anticipate he'd come looking for her. But maybe that had been self centered of her. Maybe he'd never come to the bar for her at all and it had all been some massive misunderstanding. He didn't love her, but he'd at least liked fucking her. Her brain hadn't made that up. 

"Rush is here," Belle whispered against her ear as she returned from the bar with another round of drinks. 

Lacey grunted noncommittally. 

"You should go talk to him," Belle continued. 

"I'm perfectly happy here," Lacey assured her. 

"Jesus, Lace," Belle exclaimed, dragging her away from Ruby and a couple of guys from her Spanish class. "Whatever he did it can't be that bad. Just go talk to him!"

"He didn't do anything," Lacey said, wrenching her arm free from Belle's grasp. "I told you, it just fizzled."

"Then why do you both look so miserable?" her twin asked, a gleam of triumph in her eyes.

"That's just Rush," Lacey returned with a toss of her head. "He always looks miserable."

Except when he doesn't, the traitorous part of her heart whispered. When he laughed and looked ten years younger, when every single care in his head seemed to flit away when he was underneath her in bed, his sole focus on her. Lacey pushed those thoughts away as quickly as they came.

Belle didn't look convinced. 

"I'm kind of over this scene," Lacey continued, glancing around the crowded bar, her eyes purposely skipping the morose looking figure on a bar stool. "Lets go to Queen of Hearts."

"The strip club?" Belle exclaimed.

Nick didn't seem the type to frequent Storybrooke's one and only strip club, so why not?

"Yeah," Lacey agreed. "I'll close out the tab."

She walked over to the bar, making sure to approach from the opposite side Rush was sitting at and flagged down Jimmy. 

"I need to close out," she called to him. 

"Already taken care of," Jimmy returned.

Lacey felt her stomach sink. "Who?" she demanded, though she already had a pretty good idea. 

In response, Jimmy just nodded down the bar to where Rush was sitting. 

"Your boyfriend, of course," Jimmy grinned toothily at her. 

Lacey glared at him, channeling her anger at Rush toward another person. Then she pulled away from the bar, stalking up to Rush and slapping him on the shoulder.

"What the fuck are you doing?"

"Pardon me?" he asked, looking at her with genuine confusion.

"Paying my bar tab?" she demanded. "What is this, a way to ease your guilty conscience? You don't owe me anything, Rush."

Rush sighed, adjusting his glasses almost nervously. 

"It was just a meager attempt at apologizing for what happened," he said pleadingly. "I truly am sorry, Lacey."

Lacey's heart twisted. He looked contrite, and she was sure he was sorry. But she'd come to realize she couldn't handle being his second best. She didn't want to always wonder if Rush was seeing her or a dead woman. If she let this go on further, it would only hurt worse in the end. Better get out while she still could.

"You've already apologized," she said. "And it's fine. Shit happens. I'm really not bothered."

He was silent for a moment, staring down at the bar before he stood suddenly. "Can we speak somewhere more private?"

Lacey balked, she didn't want some heart to heart. She didn't want to hear the inevitable, that he wasn't ready to move on. That this thing between them was over. She knew it was true, but to hear him say it would do something to her heart that she didn't want to think about at the moment. 

"I'd rather not," she said stiffly.

"Please, Lacey."

Those big brown eyes would be the death of her, and against her better judgment, she felt herself nodding.

* * *

The alleyway beside the Rabbit Hole hadn't improved much since the last time Rush had been there, but at least now there was no Keith and his knuckles weren't in pain from punching someone twice his size. Lacey followed him out the side door, her arms crossed against her chest. Closed off in body and mind. He knew it was too late, that he'd never get her back, but the alcohol coursing through his veins made him bolder and he had to try. 

"I need you to understand," he began, turning toward Lacey. 

"You don't have to explain anything," she interrupted him. "I get it. You're still mourning your wife. There's nothing wrong with that."

"No," Rush countered. "I mean, perhaps, but that's not what it was, Lacey."

"It's not?" she asked disbelievingly. "So, what, I just remind you of her or something? You needed a stand in and I happen to be the right general size and shape?"

This was going spectacularly wrong. And truth be told, Lacey looked nothing like Gloria. His wife had been tall and blonde, nothing like the pint sized brunette before him. The two women to capture his attention couldn't be more different if they tried. 

"Of course not!" he exclaimed. "But you have to understand that Gloria was it for me. I loved her more than anything and when she died, I thought that was it. But then I met you.”

“No,” Lacey stopped him, shaking her head. “I can’t compete with a dead woman, Rush. I never wanted to.”

A competition? How could she think that's what this was. He loved Gloria, yes. But that was in the past. He mourned her and now he'd moved on. He loved someone else now. That didn't diminish what he'd felt for his wife, but Lacey was here, now, alive and whole. And he couldn't help but feel like a bastard for moving on. 

“How do you think I feel?" he cried despairingly. "My wife died, I promised to be true to her and now I’ve fallen for you. She’s barely cold in her grave and I’ve just abandoned her memory.”

“Fallen for me?” she repeated skeptically. Lacey scoffed, giving another little shake of her head before she started to step away from him toward the mouth of the alley. How could she be so bloody obtuse? Did he have to shout it from the rooftops.

“Yes, Lacey," he called after her. "I bloody well love you if you’d only just let me!”

As soon as the words left his mouth, he knew they were the truth. He loved her. If she kept running from him and never looked back, that fact wouldn’t change. He would still love her and he’d mourn the fact that he’d never had the chance to tell her.

Lacey froze, her back to him. God he wished he could see her face, something that would give him a clue to what she was thinking other than that hard set of her shoulders.

 “So this is on me?” she said finally, turning to look at him with eyes flashing. “I won't  _let_ you? Like you're not the one who was thinking about another woman when he was inside me?"

"I wasn't--" he started.

“I’m not here to be your fucking therapy dog, Rush,” she yelled. “I didn’t sign up to fix you because you failed your dead wife. I’m here to get fucked and have a good time and clearly that’s not going to work for us, so I’m out.”

He felt like the ground had dropped out beneath him. Not that he'd expected her to return his love, of course not. But he wanted so desperately to fix what he had broken. The Lacey he'd gotten to know over the past few weeks seemed farther away than ever, the mask firmly back in place. 

"Lacey..." he trailed off, unsure of what else he could possibly say.

“Whatever we had, whatever this was, it’s over, okay?" she said, walking back toward him. "You can go back to your memories, guilt free and I can find something else.”

"That's not what I want."

Lacey crossed her arms against her chest, looking down though he still saw the glimmer of tears in her eyes. 

"Well, I don't ever get what I want," she shrugged. "Goodbye, Rush."

He stepped forward, chancing a hand against her arm. Shockingly, she didn't flinch away. 

"I do love you," he repeated, his voice sounding rough to his own ears. Now that he was sure of the conviction it seemed too late. "I swear it."

“No,” she said finally, looking up at him sadly with tear tracks marring her beautiful face. “You don’t. I’m just the first person to fuck you in a while.”

She shrugged off his hand, turning to leave, and Rush couldn't think of a damn thing to say that would make her stay. The clack of her heels against pavement faded away and he was left next to the bins with his heart well and truly broken. 

 


	36. A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to the Strip Club

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Belle has a great time at the strip club and finds some similarities between Gold and a certain male dancer. Gold and Lacey have a frank conversation. Rush regrets imbibing quite so much.

Queen of Hearts was a seedy establishment on the edge of town near the train tracks. Despite her bravado, Lacey had only set foot in the place once before. Keith had dragged her there one night to meet a friend of his who said he could get her a high paying job. Lacey didn’t have anything against strippers, but she didn’t personally want to be one, so it was no skin off her nose when Keith’s buddy had taken one look at her and declared her tits were too small. Keith had seen it as a personal insult and refused to go back.

But now here she stood with Belle at her elbow staring in at the darkened room filled with drunk patrons, thumpingly loud music and scantily clad girls serving cocktails.

Rush would never set foot in a place like this. The Rabbit Hole was slum enough as far as he was concerned. With that in mind, Lacey sauntered in like she owned the place, grabbing a seat near the stage and pulling Belle along with her.

“Lacey, what are we doing here?” Belle asked, glancing down at the sticky tabletop before setting her clutch down in her lap instead.

“Change of scenery,” Lacey said, signaling to one of the cocktail waitresses.

“What happened with Rush?” her sister asked. “You left the bar with him and then the next time I saw you, you looked like you’d been crying.”

“Bollocks,” Lacey snorted.

“Lacey.” Her sister stared at her, refusing to let her questions be dodged. Luckily, she was saved by the waitress arriving for their drink order.

“What’ll it be, girls?” the woman asked, looking down at them with bored eyes.

“Two gin and tonics, please,” Lacey said winningly, making note of the waitress’ nametag. “And keep them coming, Connie.”

Connie just rolled her eyes, stalking back off toward the bar.

"What happened with Rush?" Belle repeated as soon as they were alone again.

Lacey shrugged. "Nothing. We're still broken up, let's leave it at that."

"You were crying," Belle insisted. "What did he do?"

Lacey could feel her shoulders sag under the weight of Belle's questions. She didn't want to talk about Rush. She didn't want to think about Rush. If she thought about him too hard, she would shatter into a million pieces. She was angry with him. He dared to put this all back on her. He said she wouldn't  _let_ him love her, but he didn't love her to begin with. That was clear and always had been. She was nothing but a cheap replacement to him. 

And to think, for a moment she'd thought...

There was no use dwelling on it now. 

"He tried to talk his way back into my pants and it didn't work," Lacey finally said, staring down at the table as Connie arrived with their drinks. "End of conversation."

"But what exactly did he say?" Belle continued. 

"He said he loved me, alright?" Lacey practically yelled back, exasperated by the endless questions. Belle just stared at her open mouthed. 

"He did?"

Lacey bit her lip, trying to keep it from trembling. "Yeah, but he didn't mean it."

Belle shook her head. "Why would he say it if he didn't mean it?" 

"Because he's a lonely old bastard who wanted an easy fuck," she spat back. Hot tears were spilling over now and she swiped at them angrily. She would not be the girl crying in a strip club at midnight. This wasn't her. 

"Lacey," her sister began again, placing a hand on her arm. Lacey just shrugged her off. She didn't want pity. She wanted to drink and to watch other people take of their clothes to shitty music. 

"It doesn't matter," she insisted. "Even if he did mean it, it doesn't matter. It's not what I signed up for. We had a friends with benefits situation, nothing more. He knew that."

Belle opened her mouth to say something else, but was interrupted by an announcement over the loud speaker. 

_Ladies, you are in for a special treat tonight. All the way from the UK, give it up for the Bad Boys of Sheffield's All Male Revue!_

Lacey glanced around the room, realizing for the first time that the club was packed with women. 

"All Male Revue," she grinned at a nervous looking Belle. "Looks like my night just got a hell of a lot better." 

Belle sucked down the entirety of her gin and tonic before signaling Connie for another. Then she turned to face the stage where a group of men were filing out in various uniforms to the first strains of "You Can Leave Your Hat On." Lacey let out a loud whoop, joining in with the hordes of other screaming women. 

“Bloody hell,” Lacey exclaimed as the final stripper made his way on stage. He was about ten years younger and very much blonder but… “He looks just like –” 

“Gold!” Belle exclaimed, finishing her sister’s sentence with a very different name than had been on the tip of Lacey’s tongue.

“Yeah,” she lied, agreeing with her sister.

Belle sucked down the next round of drinks Connie set on their table, her eyes focused on the gyrating hips of the blond stripper. _Gaz_ , according to the announcer.

“It’s uncanny,” Belle said, grabbing another drink off Connie’s tray as she passed by. “Even his bum looks the same.”

Lacey would have to take Belle’s word for it having never seen Gold’s bum herself. She had to admit the stripper had a pretty cute one. Maybe Gold looked pretty good underneath the $4,000 suits.

Belle went back to analyzing the dancer who looked like her boyfriend. The man in question seemed to have noticed Belle’s interest walking to her side of the stage and thrusting his hips in her direction. 

"Cock's all wrong," Belle said suddenly, staring directly at the man’s crotch in his red speedo. Lacey had to stifle a laugh. "Gold's is much bigger."

Lacey shook her head, certain that Gold would be mortified if he knew how loose Belle's lips were when she drank. 

"What's Rush's like?" Belle asked, swinging her head around to look at her sister. "I mean he looks a lot like John. Do the similarities extend down south?"

Lacey forced a smile on her face, pretending the mention of Rush's name didn't send a lance right through her heart. 

"Well, Bells, I've never seen your boyfriend's cock so I can't really make a comparison."

"That's a shame," Belle slurred, leaning her head against Lacey's shoulder. "It's a really nice one."

Lacey cocked an eyebrow at her sister. "Just how much have you had to drink, baby sis?"

Belle shrugged. "So many." 

Lacey just nodded, rubbing her sister's back soothingly. That's when something caught her eye across the club.  

"Is that Gold?" Lacey asked, seeing the man in question standing near the bar. 

"No, Lace," Belle slurred. "We've been over this. He just looks like him."

Lacey rolled her eyes. "No, sweetie, over there." She pointed at Gold who noticed them at once, raising an eyebrow at them before walking over. 

"Baby!" Belle called, throwing her arms in the air when she finally realized her boyfriend's approach. He settled down in the seat next to Belle and she practically threw herself in his lap. "We were just talking about you." 

"Wonderful," he deadpanned.

"Don't worry," Belle said with a toss of her head. "I was just telling Lacey how much nicer your cock was than any of these strippers."

Gold's cheeks tinged slightly pink at that, but a small smirk played around his lips. He was carefully avoiding looking Lacey in the eye. 

"Sweetheart, are you drunk?" 

Belle wrinkled up her nose. "Maybe a smidge." 

"Do I need to take you home?" he asked, placing a steadying hand on Belle's waist as she wrapped her arms around his neck.

"I thought you'd never ask," Belle replied in what she probably thought was a sultry way, but from Lacey's vantage point just looked sloppy. 

"Okay, lets get you home," Gold said, attempting to help Belle to her feet.

"I need to pee first," she stated, standing up on slightly wobbling legs before stumbling off toward the bathrooms.

"Right then," Gold murmured, staring down at his hands clasped in his lap. Lacey just sipped her drink, watching Gold carefully. 

"You're a bad influence on her," he said finally.

"Oh she did that all on her own," Lacey countered. "Don't let her sweetness fool you. She's just as much trouble as I am."

"I'm well aware," Gold said with a snort. There was a long pause where neither of them said anything. They'd never had much in common save a mutual love for Belle. Without her as a buffer there was an odd sort of tension between them. Finally Gold broke the silence.

“I hear you dumped my tenant,” he said coolly. "I do hope he doesn't trash the place."

“I don’t want to talk about it,” Lacey growled out. Why did people have to keep bringing up the last person she wanted to think about?

“Good, neither do I,” Gold conceded, the conversation lapsing into silence once more as the male strippers on stage bowed off to raucous applause. Lacey thought she spotted Granny attempting to stuff a few dollar bills down the red-headed one's g-string. 

"So what brings you here tonight, Goldie?" she asked, turning her attention to the man beside her. "I didn't realize you swung both ways."

Gold narrowed his eyes at her. "I own the building, dearie," he said flatly. "I'm merely collecting the rent."

"Tonight of all nights?" she continued, pressing her luck. 

"I thought perhaps they'd let me up on stage, is that what you want to hear?"

Lacey wrinkled her nose at him. "Don't quit your day job, Gold."

"I don't plan on it."

Lacey watched as Belle returned from the bathroom, stopping at the bar to talk to the blond stripper she'd thought looked like Gold. He'd blessedly replaced his clothing, she noticed, taking another long swig of her drink.  

“I tried to break up with Belle once,” Gold said out of the blue, as if it was the most natural thing in the world. Lacey sputtered, choking on her gin and tonic.

“What?” she exclaimed. Her sister and Gold had been so fucking happy in their perfect relationship from practically day one. She couldn’t imagine anything breaking the two of them up, despite the fact that Gold was still a prize asshole. She had no doubt he was crazy about her sister. 

Gold spared her a glance, a smirk playing along his lips.

“The night you, your father, and that mind numbingly insipid boy you insisted on dating barged in on us,” he continued. “I was overwhelmed by the age difference, your father’s disapproval, the fact that Belle will always deserve far more than I can give her. I called things off.”

“You’re an idiot,” Lacey said flatly. “None of that bullshit matters if you love each other.”

Gold snorted. “Your sister was of the same mind and set about convincing me how wrong I was.”

“Okay, enough story,” Lacey cut him off. “I really don’t need to hear about how she fucked you into submission.”

Gold smirked again. 

“I won’t deny there was some fucking involved, but the root of her argument was that we loved each other. If you have that, every other obstacle seems surprisingly surmountable.”

Lacey narrowed her eyes at Gold wondering if Belle had somehow goaded him into this conversation.

“Why are you telling me all this?”

Gold licked his lips, looking up at her with eyes that really were a familiar shade of brown. Her stomach lurched at the thought. 

“Because, as many reasons as I thought I had for why Belle would be better off without me, that wasn’t the real reason I was keen to end things," he said. "The truth was, I was scared. Belle loved me and I loved her. For people like us, there’s nothing more terrifying than that.”

“People like us?”

“People who’ve been hurt," Gold explained. "Putting your complete trust in someone – because that’s what love is, it’s trust – opening yourself up to someone, it gives them immeasurable power over you. I don’t like giving up that power and I don’t think you do either. But it can be worth it.”

Lacey snorted into her drink. "What would you know about it?"

"Of the two of us, I'm the one in a healthy, functional adult relationship," he pointed out. 

"Based on pure luck," Lacey shot back. She was never quite sure what screw was loose in her sister's head that she wanted to shackle herself to Gold, but she was positive dumb luck on Gold's part had a lot to do with it.

"Perhaps," he agreed. "But don't let that good luck pass you by."

Lacey crossed her arms, staring at Gold intently.

"Are you trying to give me relationship advice?"

Gold shrugged. "I'm just giving you life advice, dearie. You don't have to take it." 

"Oh, Mr. Gold," she said, shoving him against the shoulder playfully. "If I didn’t know better I’d almost say you cared about me."

“Don’t be ridiculous," he scoffed. "Your mood significantly impacts Belle’s and it’s in my best interest to have Belle in a very good mood.”

Lacey let out a loud groan.

“And just like that, you've ruined it,” she shot back.  

They lapsed into silence once again though this time it was companionable. Gold sipped at his scotch as Lacey finished off her gin and for the first time she thought maybe her sister wasn't a complete head-case after all. Until the sister in question came into her line of sight. 

"Um, Belle's getting a little handsy with that stripper over there," she said motioning at her sister. 

Gold turned in the direction Lacey was pointing where Belle was leaning against Gaz, her hand pressed against his chest. To her surprise, Gold just chuckled.

"She does tend to be particularly tactile when she drinks."

Lacey stared at him in shock.

"You're not jealous?" She'd never thought of Gold as being particularly reasonable, but he didn't seem even the least bit put out. 

"Why would I be?" Gold returned with a shrug. "Belle loves me. I trust her." 

There was that word again. Trust. That's what love was, Lacey supposed. Trusting someone enough to risk giving them your heart. She'd never had it in her to do so. Rush had trusted her, she realized with a jolt. He had been honest with her about Gloria. He had acknowledged how hard this all was for him. He had told her he loved her. And she'd thrown it all back in his face.

She was an idiot. 

She bit her lip, blinking away the tears that found their way to her eyes yet again that night. To distract herself, she turned back to where Belle was talking with her new friend whose hand had found its way to her waist.

Gold cleared his throat, his eyes trained on the younger man.

"All the same, I should probably get her home," he coughed out before standing and throwing a wad of cash down on the table. "Do you need a ride?"

"No," Lacey answered truthfully. "I have somewhere I need to be."

Gold gave her a stiff nod before heading off to collect Belle. When Gold approached, she threw herself into his arms, kissing him soundly much to her admirer's chagrin. Lacey could see her attempting to make introductions before Gold steered her toward the door, casting a scowl back at the other man. He might trust Belle, but that trust clearly didn't extend to anyone else.  

Lacey sighed, glancing down at her empty glass. There was nothing for her here. There never had been. Because as much as she hated to admit it, she wanted what Belle had. Not Gold. But someone who trusted her implicitly. Someone who had her back. Someone with glasses, a perpetual five o’clock shadow and a generally sour disposition.

She wanted Nick. And suddenly admitting it to herself wasn’t half as frightening as the idea that her own fear had cost her any good luck she’d had in finding him. 

* * *

Nicholas Rush woke up to pounding. It took a moment to determine if it was just the pounding in his head. He couldn’t quite remember how he’d made it home, but he was glad to see he was in his own bedroom. After Lacey’s blatant rejection he’d retreated back to the Rabbit Hole and proceeded to get more drunk than he’d been since he was a teenager. It was a miracle he was alive.

The pounding started again and he realized with a start that it was coming from his front door, rather than a nasty hangover. Come to think of it, he thought he might still be a bit drunk. He focused on his bedside clock registering that it was almost 4 in the morning, though the numbers were hard to read in his present state. 

Who the bloody fucking hell would bang on his door at 4 in the morning?

He sat up with difficulty, stomach lurching at the movement. He felt light headed and sluggish. Definitely still drunk then.

The pounding started anew and some sober part of his mind told him he’d best get up and answer it rather than have a neighbor call the cops. Or perhaps he should call the cops. There was no way the person at his door was for him. The only person he’d had in his life had under no uncertain terms removed him from hers. He was just a sad, lonely, pathetic bastard.

“Nicholas Rush!” came a voice from outside his front door. “I know you’re in there. Open up!”

His stomach dropped at the familiar accent. What the hell was Lacey doing here? He reached a hand up and pinched his arm. It hurt. So definitely awake then.

“Nick!” she shouted again. “I need to talk to you, please!”

He finally managed to stand up, realizing a moment too late that he’d only partially removed his clothes before crawling into his bed. His unbuttoned jeans slid down his legs, tangling about his ankles and making him fall face forward into the bedroom wall when he tried to take a step.

“Fuck,” he managed to rasp out, rubbing his cheekbone which had apparently broken his fall. He kicked his jeans off, standing in his bedroom doorway for a long moment in nothing but his boxers and socks. He registered that he should probably put clothes on if Lacey was indeed at his door. He’d prostrated himself before her enough for one evening. But some petulant part of his mind wouldn’t hear of it. What was the point? He might as well live in his boxers now for all he cared.

With that thought in mind, he stumbled down the hallway toward the front door. A peek through the peephole revealed nothing. Perhaps it had all been a dream after all. It was stupid to think Lacey would show up here in the dead of night. She’d been very clear earlier that she didn’t want him or the measly fractured heart he’d offered her.

Still, some part of that fractured heart was still thumping away hopefully in his chest. With a sigh, he slid the door chain from its lock and pulled open the door.

“Lacey?” he said, not able to contain the disbelief in his voice. He rubbed at his eyes wondering if he should have grabbed his glasses.

She was curled into a ball next to his front door, her back pressed against the wall. Once Rush opened the door she stood up quickly, swiping at her tear stained face.

“I didn’t think you’d answer,” she said, rubbing her palms against the skirt of her dress.

“Well it was hard not to hear you,” he replied, still bleary eyed. “What the hell are you doing here?”

“Can I come in?” she asked shakily. Rush shook his head, trying to clear the fuzziness. He didn’t like being this drunk. He didn’t like feeling a step behind.

“Oh,” Lacey said in a small voice. “I mean, sure, I understand.”

“What?” he asked sharply, belatedly realizing that she thought his head shake meant she couldn’t come in. Just as well, he supposed. “Why are you here?”

“I needed to tell you something,” she said, shuffling her feet.

“In the middle of the night?” he asked skeptically. What could be so important? Had she come by to kick him while he was down? To repeat just how insane he'd been for opening his heart to her? To really drive home the fact that whatever they'd had, she wanted no more part of it?

“It’s one of those things that when you realize it, you can’t keep it in," she said, twisting her hands together nervously. "No matter how inopportune the moment.”

His confusion must have shown on his face because Lacey rolled her eyes.

“I love you too, you idiot.”

Now he was sure he was dreaming.

 


	37. I’ve Never Known Love This is Just My Best Guess

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The air is cleared and gag reflexes are tested (not like that, perverts!)

Lacey had never told someone she loved them before, but she was fairly certain some sort of response was usually given in the face of such a declaration. Unfortunately for her, the object of her desire seemed vaguely shell shocked, wearing nothing but boxers, a threadbare pair of socks, and a completely confused expression.

“What?” he asked, stumbling sideways into the doorjamb.

“It took me long enough to say it the first time, are you really going to make me say it again?”

Nick blinked at her owlishly as though processing her words was taking every ounce of his considerable brainpower. Finally he broke.

“What the fuck!” he shouted, raking a hand through his hair. “You jus…you fucking leave me hanging when I pour my fucking heart out so I’m left sittin’ there with my thumb up my arse like a fucking numptie and then you show up at fucking tits o’clock in the morning to what…fucking drive me insane?”

It certainly wasn’t the reaction she’d expected when she grabbed a cab from the strip club, but Lacey supposed it was about what she deserved. She also wasn’t entirely sure of what Nick had just said, his accent so thick and his words slurring together with sleep.

“I’m sorry –”

“I mean, I fucking say I love you and you just shoot me down like it’s the easiest fucking thing in the world.”

“I know,” Lacey replied, wrapping her arms around herself protectively. “And I’m sorry I hurt you. But you hurt me too and I was scared…”

She trailed off as Nick stumbled to the side, hitting the door hard.

“Ouch,” he muttered, rubbing at his shoulder.

“Are you drunk?” she asked, finally taking note of Nick’s slurred words and realizing they weren’t from sleep.

“No fucking shite I’m fucking drunk!” he exclaimed. “You would be too if you told someone you loved them and they told you to fuck off!”

Lacey couldn’t help the small smile that crossed her face. For all their differences they were so remarkably similar.

“Can I come in?” she risked asking.

“Yeah, okay,” Nick said without hesitation, shuffling back out of the doorway to let her pass.

He stumbled over to the sofa, plopping down hard onto the leather surface.

Lacey followed him, sitting down gingerly next to him and biting her lip. She really wasn’t sure where to go from here. He loved her, of that much she was fairly certain. She loved him and she’d just told him as much. In any cheesy movie she’d ever seen, this was where it ended. He kissed her in the rain or some nonsense while a pop ballad played in the background and they were happy for the rest of their lives.

Real life, it appeared, was different from a Kate Hudson movie.

Nick was staring at his coffee table as though it had personally offended him, his arms crossed against his naked chest. He looked a bit like a grumpy, drunk kitten and Lacey wasn’t sure whether to laugh or cry. Had she missed her window? Did his love have an expiration date? Could a heart only face rejection so many times before it gave up?

“So,” she prompted.

“I hurt you,” he returned, still staring at the coffee table rather than look at her.

“What?” it was her turn to be confused.

“You said I hurt you,” he clarified, jabbing his thumb over his shoulder toward the door. “Back there.”

That’s what he’d gotten out of their conversation? Not that she’d apologized, or said she loved him, but simply that she’d had her feelings hurt?

“Well, yeah,” she began. “But…”

“I didn’t mean to,” he interrupted her pleadingly. “I never wanted to hurt you. I’m sorry about what happened and Gloria and…” he trailed off looking miserable.

“It’s not just that,” Lacey barreled on bravely. “You said I wouldn’t let you love me. And maybe that’s true, but it felt like you were putting it all on me. Like it’s all my fault we don’t have some perfect relationship.”

He looked up at her, his bloodshot eyes wide and sad.

“’S not your fault,” he said with a shake of his head. “It’s mine.”

Now it was Lacey’s turn to shake her head.

“I didn’t trust you,” she said with a shrug. “It’s hard for me to trust people. I don’t do it easily and to admit you love someone is to trust them not to use it against you. I wasn’t ready for that.”

Rush looked at her with penetrating eyes, the alcoholic haze seeming to burn off leaving them remarkably clear.

“Then what changed your mind?”

Lacey shrugged again, feeling her seemingly never-ending supply of tears start up again. “I realized I didn’t want to lose you. And maybe I already have and this is all too late, but if I’m going to lose you anyway, you deserve to know the truth.”

Rush reached for her, cupping her cheeks and tenderly wiping a tear away with his thumb. 

"You haven't lost me," he said softly. "Whatever this thing is, I'm in it. I'm not going anywhere." 

Lacey leaned her forehead against his. "Promise?" she sniffled out. "Even when I'm horrible?" 

"I wouldn't have you any other way," he joked. "And I know I fucked up too. What happened in my office, Lacey, she was my wife and I’m always gonna love her, but she’s gone. And you’re not a replacement for her, you’re not in competition with her. I love you because you’re you not because of anyone else.” 

A choked sob tore itself from Lacey's throat before she leaned forward the scant inches to press her lips against his. Nick's hands found their way to her hips, steadying himself against her as he kissed her back. Against all odds she hadn't managed to break this yet again. She'd run after their first kiss, again after their first night together, and a final time when she couldn't quite accept his love. At least it was getting easier to make her way back to him. But she knew she couldn't test this again, she couldn't run out on him. Nick had proved remarkably patient, but she didn't know how many more chances she'd get.

She didn't intend to let this one slip by.

She pushed her hands into his hair, pulling herself closer against him and deepening the kiss. He tasted like stale scotch and cigarettes, but she couldn't find it in her to mind in the least. Because Nick was here and he was hers and she never wanted to let him go. 

But a second later, Nick was pushing her away frantically. 

"What the..." she began as Nick covered his mouth with his hands, gagging audibly. After a moment, he surfaced again coughing and sputtering.

"I'm sorry," he choked out with watery eyes. "That's the liquor, not you."

Lacey's surprise gave way to a bout of giggles as Rush swallowed, looking miserable. Her life was definitely not a Kate Hudson movie. 

"Oh, God, I'm a fucking mess tonight, Lace."

"You'll feel better if you just get it out," she reasoned. 

Nick leaned back against the sofa, rolling his eyes. "Just when I thought I couldn't embarrass myself more tonight."

Lacey petted his hair back fondly, smoothing his wrinkled brow. 

"Trust me, I've seen worse," she said, standing from the sofa and pulling him up with her. "You just need to sleep this off." 

He followed her down the hall back to his bedroom, but paused at the doorway when she tried to tug him through.

"What's wrong," she asked, reaching up to smooth his hair back from his brow once again. 

"If I go back to sleep, this might all have been a dream," Rush said, glancing around the room, anywhere but at Lacey right in front of him. "And while I'd like to forget almost throwing up on you, I don't really want the rest to go away."

Lacey smirked, wrapping her arms around him as she led him backward to the bed.

"What if I stay with you?" she asked, reaching up to brush a kiss against his stubbled cheek. "If I snuggle up next to you and hold you all night and in the morning I make you the patented Lacey French hangover cure, because you're definitely gonna need it. And then I promise that once you brush your teeth and take some aspirin I'll fuck you until neither one of us can walk. How does that sound?"

Rush's Adam's apple bobbed in his throat and Lacey was mildly impressed to feel him hardening against her thigh.

"Easy there, tiger," she said, reaching down to give him a light squeeze. "Sleep first."

"Okay," Rush agreed, fumbling his way back into the bed. Lacey kicked off her shoes and crawled in after him, spooning up behind him and burying her nose against his neck. 

It was only a matter of minutes before Rush's breath evened out, his light snores letting her know he was fast asleep. 

"I love you," she whispered, kissing his shoulder. She hoped he remembered this all in the morning. And if not, she hoped she was brave enough to repeat it. 


	38. Krull the Warrior King

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> All good things come to an end, including this unlikely pairing. I'll still take prompts in this 'verse over on tumblr and I have another Rush/Lacey idea swimming around in my head. But for now, this is the end. Thank you to everyone for joining me on this crackship journey.
> 
> Enjoy the fluff and smut.

He was curled up on the sofa watching a truly terrible movie on television and Nicholas Rush could hardly believe it was actually real.

Not the awful movie, but the petite brunette in the oversized sweats who was snuggled up next to him, her head resting against his shoulder.

Lacey loved him. She hadn’t repeated the words, but he blessedly remembered their conversation of the night before, even the parts he wished he could forget. He’d have thought it all a dream if he hadn’t awoken to the sound of someone using his shower and a glass emitting a noxious odor on his bedside table with a post it note that said ‘Drink Me’.

He wasn’t sure what was all in the glass but he detected a hint of hot sauce and raw egg mixed together with something fizzy. Reasoning that he couldn’t possibly feel any worse, he downed the mixture, hoping it wasn’t an elaborate trick on Lacey’s part.

He’d barely managed to choke it down, but a few hours later he was definitely feeling better. That might also have to do with the shower he took and Lacey dragging him through the drive through at Mr. Cluck’s insisting that greasy fast food was stage 2 of her no fail hangover remedy.

And now here they were, curled up on the sofa watching TV and lazing away the rest of their Sunday afternoon.

They hadn’t spoken much about the previous night, seeming to have an understanding between them. When Lacey had emerged from the shower to find Rush choking down her hangover cure, she’d asked after his memories of the night before. He’d told her they were hazy, but there and she’d accepted it and moved on with their day. He didn’t suppose he needed constant reminders of Lacey’s love. She’d said the words and he believed her. But he wanted them, craved them, felt them dancing on the tip of his own tongue. Now that they’d said it he wanted to keep saying it.

But part of him was still slightly afraid that this happy little bubble could pop. That one wrong move would have him all alone again. So he turned his attention back to the plot of the movie.

“So I’m supposed to buy that not only is this man’s job conditional on him making a strange woman fall in love with him, but that the woman in question’s job also depends on her driving away a man in ten days time?”

“Yep,” Lacey agreed, wrapping her arms around her knees and hugging them to her chest.

“That’s absurd,” he said, his arm tightening around Lacey’s shoulders. “Not only would no reasonable employer ever task their employee with something so ludicrously inappropriate, but on top of that what are the odds of two people with similarly delusional bosses meeting each other in the same bar on the same night?”

Lacey arched an eyebrow at him. “You don’t watch a lot of romantic comedies, do you?”

“Of course not,” he snorted.

“Well that’s gonna have to change,” Lacey smirked, looking up at him from below her lashes.

“And why is that?”

“Because you’re dating me now, and I’m a big believer in the suspension of disbelief. Gird your loins for an influx of terrible movies.”

_Dating_. They were dating. That was a concrete term. Lacey loved him and they were dating. He’d sit through any number of terrible movies for that.

Lacey’s attention turned back to the television, laughing along at the easy jokes. Rush was caught up in watching her, her eyes sparkling, body loose and comfortable as she lounged against him. She was so fucking beautiful.

He was pleasantly distracted watching Lacey watch the movie until he heard something familiar come from the TV.

“ _Does Princess Sophia want to come out and play?_ ” The pretty blonde on the television was asking the similarly attractive male lead.

Rush sat up, Lacey looking at him questioningly.

“Wait a minute,” he said narrowing his eyes at her. “Is that where you got that name?”

Lacey looked confused for a moment before she burst out laughing.

“I forgot about that!” she exclaimed excitedly. “I guess I did.”

“But she’s trying to drive him away,” Rush said motioning at the TV.

Lacey rolled her eyes. “I was just trying to see how far you’d let me take it,” she said, cupping him through his jeans. “Pretty far as it turned out.”

“I can’t think rationally when your mouth is on my cock, dear.”

Lacey giggled again. “I know. Perhaps he’d prefer being called Krull the Warrior King?”

“He’d prefer you not call him anything at all,” he shot back.

“Not even Nicky?” she asked, all wide eyed innocence belied by the fact that her hand was still on his cock.

Rush grabbed her around the waist, pulling her onto his lap until she was straddling him and kissed her hard to distract her from that conversation.

“Stop trying to lose me in ten days,” he growled against her lips. “I guarantee it’s not gonna work.”

Lacey squealed as he nipped down her neck, his hands straying to cup her bottom, currently clad in a pair of his sweat pants.

“Now, I’m pretty sure last night you promised me something about fucking until neither of us could walk and this hangover is all but gone,” he murmured against her collar bone. “Should we forget the movie and take this to the bedroom?”

“Well, we haven’t done it on the couch in a while,” she murmured against his ear, continuing to stroke him through his jeans.

It was a true statement. During their short relationship they’d studiously avoided the sofa following that disastrous first time so many months ago.

“I promise not to leave this time,” she continued.

“And why is that?” Rush asked with a smirk.

Lacey sat back, biting her lip.

“You know why,” she said petulantly.

“I do,” he agreed, but wanting the confirmation all the same. “I just want to hear you say it.”

Lacey rolled her eyes, huffing out an exasperated breath.

“Because I love you,” she said, her cheeks blushing, eyes not quite meeting his.

Rush couldn’t help the smile that crossed his face as he cupped her cheeks, forcing her to look at him.

“I love you too,” he whispered before capturing her lips once more.

Things moved quickly after that, Rush pushing her down against the sofa cushions. It took no time at all to strip Lacey of his t-shirt and sweats. His button down and jeans took a bit more effort, but soon they were skin to skin, reclaiming the sofa as they’d reclaimed this relationship.

Lacey was looking up at him with wide eyes, softer than he’d ever seen them. And somehow he finally believed it. She wasn’t going to run. This was real.

He kept his eyes on hers as he lined them up and thrust into her with one long, smooth stroke. Lacey let out a moan, her back arching up off the sofa.

“Fuck,” she groaned, twisting her fingers into his hair. “I missed this. I missed Krull.”

Rush cocked an eyebrow at her as he slowly began to move his hips against hers. “It’s been less than a week.”

“I know,” Lacey bit out. “But I thought I’d lost it forever.”

“Never,” Rush growled, thrusting back into her with force. Lacey cried out, her legs wrapping around his waist so he could hit deeper, working them both toward their peak.

The truth was, he’d missed this too. Even if they’d had sex only a few days ago, it felt like a lifetime. So much had happened. He’d almost lost her for good. And yet here they were, fate handing them a second chance. Or perhaps they were on the third or fourth one by this point. He didn’t think he could ever have a life without Lacey French now. She’d worked herself under his skin so deep that she was a part of him. He wouldn’t be quite whole without her. It had started the day he almost hit her with his car and now this was the culmination. 

“Oh shit,” Lacey moaned, tears starting to form in her eyes.

Rush froze above her. “What’s wrong?” he asked, panicked, attempting to pull away. But Lacey just tightened her legs around him, keeping him flush against her.

She shook her head, swiping at her cheeks.

“I just…I’ve never done this with someone I loved before,” she said, her teary eyes looking at a place over his shoulder. “It just feels different, you know? It’s a good thing.”

It was a good thing. And it did feel different. This wasn’t just sex, it was something more. He loved her and he wanted to show her just how much.

Rush cupped her cheeks, kissing her gently before starting to move again.

“I love you,” he whispered, pressing his forehead against hers. Lacey’s face split into a brilliant smile, the tears still shining in her eyes as she rolled her hips against his.

“I love you. I love you…”

He kept saying it with every thrust of his hips until Lacey was crying out for a different reason, gripping him tight with arms and legs until she found her release. Rush followed soon after, collapsing against her chest as Lacey combed his hair back with her fingers, pressing kisses against the top of his head.

“I love you, too,” she sighed.

And everything else seemed to fade away. God knows they’d probably fuck up again. But as long as they had this, Rush thought they might just make it.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Promises and Butterflies](https://archiveofourown.org/works/7236688) by [ashadeofpemberley](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ashadeofpemberley/pseuds/ashadeofpemberley)




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